Reviewed in Brief

THE Magic Baton, by Filippo Sacchi (Putnam’s, $3.75). I once heard a private recording of a Toscanini rehearsal, and my first reaction was indignation. Though his orchestra contained some of the finest instrumentalists in the world, the maestro bullied and cursed them like so many dray horses. It seemed outrageous. What I was unable to admit was the heroism of which Toscanini’s life remains an example: the heroism of a man who places all of his passion at the disposal of a beatific vision, and sacrifices mere nicety to that end. Toscanini simply preferred rendering his music as perfectly as possible to being thought a Regular Fellow, a Swell Guy, a Decent Joe; and if he stepped on toes it was in nomine artis, and never ad gloriam Arturo. Result: the very men he often abused held him, nevertheless, in reverent regard. This is the Toscanini whom Sacchi’s vivid biography sets before us: an image to consider as honestly as possible in these curious days that offer so much unqualified lip-service to the Average Man. R. P.

The Challenge of Coexistence, by Hugh Gaitskell (Harvard, $2.50). If Labor should carry the next election in Great Britain, Hugh Gaitskell will become the parliamentary leader, of the West’s second greatest power. To foretell the scope of this tragedy, Harvard University last year invited Mr. Gaitskell to lecture on “coexistence”—which he did, precisely as the hideous icons cherished by his kind were being obliterated by the Hungarian revolution. Manfully carrying on with it, Gaitskell trotted out the crumbling furniture of the Liberal mind, to furbish the three lectures preserved in this remarkably tiresome book. How familiar it all is: avoidance of “the third world war,” at any cost; the grim determination to remain on the defensive; the sneaking desire to see West Germany “neutralized”; the lingering infatuation with the UN and the mooning after “uncommitted” nations. C. L.

THE Magic Baton, by Filippo Sacchi (Putnam’s, $3.75). I once heard a private recording of a Toscanini rehearsal, and my first reaction was indignation. Though his orchestra contained some of the finest instrumentalists in the world, the maestro bullied and cursed them like so many dray horses. It seemed outrageous. What I was unable to admit was the heroism of which Toscanini’s life remains an example: the heroism of a man who places all of his passion at the disposal of a beatific vision, and sacrifices mere nicety to that end. Toscanini simply preferred rendering his music as perfectly as possible to being thought a Regular Fellow, a Swell Guy, a Decent Joe; and if he stepped on toes it was in nomine artis, and never ad gloriam Arturo. Result: the very men he often abused held him, nevertheless, in reverent regard. This is the Toscanini whom Sacchi’s vivid biography sets before us: an image to consider as honestly as possible in these curious days that offer so much unqualified lip-service to the Average Man. R. P.

The Challenge of Coexistence, by Hugh Gaitskell (Harvard, $2.50). If Labor should carry the next election in Great Britain, Hugh Gaitskell will become the parliamentary leader, of the West’s second greatest power. To foretell the scope of this tragedy, Harvard University last year invited Mr. Gaitskell to lecture on “coexistence”—which he did, precisely as the hideous icons cherished by his kind were being obliterated by the Hungarian revolution. Manfully carrying on with it, Gaitskell trotted out the crumbling furniture of the Liberal mind, to furbish the three lectures preserved in this remarkably tiresome book. How familiar it all is: avoidance of “the third world war,” at any cost; the grim determination to remain on the defensive; the sneaking desire to see West Germany “neutralized”; the lingering infatuation with the UN and the mooning after “uncommitted” nations. C. L.