Just as the Trumpets, summer creatures who live in a world of warmth and sunshine, prepare to hibernate, the Grumpets, winter creatures who live in the dark, frozen mountains of the north prepare to take over their land.

The nineteenth-century English slide trumpet was the last trumpet with the traditional sound of the old classic trumpet. The instrument was essentially a natural trumpet to which had been added a movable slide with a return mechanism. It was England's standard orchestral trumpet, despite the dominance of natural and, ultimately, valved instruments elsewhere, and it remained in use by leading English players until the last years of the century. The slide trumpet's dominating role in nineteenth-century English orchestral playing has been well documented, but until now, the use of the instrument in solo and ensemble music has been given only superficial consideration. Art Brownlow's study is a new and thorough assessment of the slide trumpet. It is the first comprehensive examination of the orchestral, ensemble and solo literature written for this instrument. Other topics include the precursors of the nineteenth-century instrument, its initial development and subsequent modifications, its technique, and the slide trumpet's slow decline. Appendices include checklists of English trumpeters and slide trumpetmakers.

This fierce fable of childbirth by German Surrealist Unica Zürn was written after she had already given birth to two children and undergone the self-induced abortion of another in Berlin in the 1950s. Beginning in the relatively straightforward, if disturbing, narrative of a young woman in a tower (with a bat in her hair and ravens for company) engaged in a psychic war with the parasitic son in her belly, The Trumpets of Jericho dissolves into a beautiful nightmare of hypnotic obsession and mythical language, stitched together with anagrams and private ruminations. Arguably Zürn's most extreme experiment in prose, and never before translated into English, this novella dramatizes the frontiers of the body--its defensive walls as well as its cavities and thresholds--animating a harrowing and painfully, twistedly honest depiction of motherhood as a breakdown in the distinction between self and other, transposed into the language of darkest fairy tales. Unica Zürn (1916-70) was born in Grünewald, Germany. Toward the end of World War II, she discovered the realities of the Nazi concentration camps--a revelation which was to haunt and unsettle her for the rest of her life. After meeting Hans Bellmer in 1953, she followed him to Paris, where she became acquainted with the Surrealists and developed the body of drawings and writings for which she is best remembered: a series of anagram poems, hallucinatory accounts and literary enactments of the mental breakdowns from which she would suffer until her suicide in 1970.