Delight is a gift that deserves appreciation. Hitchcock provides delight, and almost nothing else. Not instruction, not insight, not interpretation -- just incandescence. This volume contains selections of his poetry, short fiction, plays and essays. It also contains specimens of literary forms that Hitchcock virtually invented. Congressional testimony, for example. He certainly was not the first person to appear before a congressional committee, but I submit that the transcript of his interview by the Un-American Activities Committee in 1957 might have been the first to qualify has an absurdist document of the top rank. It starts with his response to an early question as to where and when he was born: "I was born early on the bright June 2, 1914, in Hood River, Oregon, where the delicious apples come from." Soon, we begin a seemingly endless series of questions as to when he might have been a member of the Communist Party, which only comes to a finish with this exchange: "Q: Were you a member of the Communist Party yesterday? You said you are not today. A: "That is a delightful question. Am I directed to answer it?" Q: "You are directed to answer it." A: "I must decline; I wish to decline; I do decline." Later, he refuses to answer another question by citing the 1st, 2nd, 3rd, 4th and 5th amendments to the Consitution. Q: "What is the third amendment?" A: "I am not a lawyer. I leave that to you. I just throw it in." Beckett couldn't have written it any better. Hitchcock also invented the rejection letter as a literary form. Many people submitted pieces to Kayak, Hitchcock's literary journal of the '60's, in hopes of receiving a rejection in the form of a Victorian-period engraving (of a small lad swinging an ax at a wolf who is mauling his playmate, for example) with a very polite personal note, something like: "Sorry, but the editors of kayak feel that your submission is not quite what we need this season. Thanks anyway." ( )