ages inherent in being able to savour the work only with the ears. Mrs Somerville has made many allusions to Maori legend and mythology and there is much use of Maori terminology which will be unfamiliar to the majority of listeners. Without the text it is therefore difficult to carry out the study and research necessary for a full understanding and appreciation of this remarkable reconstruction of the Maui myth. It is a pity that an annotated copy of the text could not have been included with the record. As a dramatic production, the record is good. It was produced by William Austin of NZBC fame. According to the cover, Mr Austin is ‘a firm advocate of the premise that radio drama is a unique art form, and that a maze of complex devices is less likely to arouse the imagination of the listener than “placement” of the solo actor and employment of a variety of voice textures ….’ Translated this means that Austin has dispensed with frills and let the soloist do the work. He has succeeded well and he is ideally served by his soloist, Inia te Wiata. Te Wiata is superb. The rich and varied cadences of his voice sustain the drama from start to finish and make the conception of the hero Maui reciting his own exploits entirely credible. He is a master at evoking the atmosphere appropriate to the varying moods of the drama. So much for dramatic production. As pure drama, however, ‘Maui's Farewell’ is less successful. Rightly or wrongly most listeners will have a mental illusion of how the speech of a pre-European Maori would translate into English. We expect rolling phrases and a certain majesty, perhaps even pedantry, of expression. Thus such phrases as ‘elbow grease’, ‘This was something big’, and ‘Now I am going to opt out’ are grating to the ear. They offend our sense of convention and jolt one from the world of the ancient Maori into the 20th Century of IBM etc., where people talk of opting out and ‘getting the message’ and ‘Let's get the facts straight’ (more of Mrs Somerville's phrases). Again some of the imagery almost verges on the incongruous. Maui speaks of putting ‘a spoke in the wheel of the sun god’. The wheel was of course unknown to the ancient Maori and this evokes a sense of the ridiculous. So much of the language is rich and appropriate that it is a pity that the odd apparently careless turn of phrase mars the total effect. It may be that Mrs Somerville has made a deliberate attempt by the use of modern colloquialisms to bridge the gap of time and to link her tale of days gone by with the world of modern technology. However, if such is her intention, it does not come off. Although we willingly suspend belief to hear ‘Maui's’ words on the modern all-electric talking-type gramophone (as Spike Milligan would say), most listeners will baulk when ‘Maui’ comes out with some of the phrases quoted above. Nevertheless, the overall effect of Maui's Farewell as recited by Inia Te Wiata is rich, satisfying and full of interest. Inia Te Wiata and Dora Somerville together have brought Maui and his legendary world of long ago to life.

WEST INDIAN SPIRITUALS AND FOLK SONGS Inia Te Wiata (bass) and Maurice Till (piano) Kiwi SLC-70 Stereo-Mono 12in LP 33⅓ rpm This is the last record made by Inia Te Wiata before his death. It is a selection of West Indian spirituals and folk tunes from the collection of the famous West Indian singer Edric Connor, Inia's friend for many years. Inia learned the songs from Connor and featured them in many of his concerts and broadcasts during which he came to understand them intimately. With their mixture of tripping gaiety and crushing sadness the songs give tremendous scope for the range of Inia Te Wiata's voice and his talent for acting and the dramatic. He is also admirably served in his accompanist, Maurice Till. ‘Ogoun Belele’, a chant with religious connotations, allows Inia to demonstrate the richness and power of his voice at the lower end of its range. ‘Murder in de Market’ is a song from Barbados. It shows a strong Elizabethan influence in its melody which seems strange when one considers the origin of the song. ‘Death, O me Lawd!’ is a West Indian Negro spiritual. It is sombre and powerful to