The NPR Curious Listener's Guide to Opera.

by William Berger Perigee Books, 240 pp. $13.95

The latest welcome-to-opera book comes from William Berger as part of NPR's new Curious Listener's Guide series. (Other installments will feature Max Morath and Michael Feinstein on popular standards and Tim Smith on classical music and jazz.) Berger provides an engaging read that takes us through the rich history of the art and introduces us to both its many styles (verismo, buffa, et al.) and its essential elements (why, for instance, the "farewell aria" and "oath duet" are such staples). Along the way, Berger includes a number of anecdotal excursions to flesh out some of the more intriguing aspects of the story, the most striking of which is the tale of Alessandro Moreschi, the last of the castratos, who made several recordings in 1902-04.

Berger also includes several fine chapters of survey material. There are short biographies of the composers, conductors and performers who have dominated the opera stage since the sixteenth century, a chapter on the major operas, with brief story outlines and analyses of style and form, and a short glossary of terms, from the most basic language (a definition of "orchestra") to the more obscure (what differentiates a "cavatina from a "romanza"). The two final chapters are devoted to Berger's choices of essential opera on CD, and various references -- from books to documentaries -- for those still more curious.

Naturally, when it comes to opera, there is always room for quibbling. And even if this is only a basic introduction (and therefore neither concerned with nor open to the more arcane jockeying), some of Berger's choices -- or non-choices -- seem a bit odd. While Verdi and Wagner dominate the proceedings (as well they should), with Mozart, Rossini and Puccini not far behind, Bellini -- who many consider to be the great melody-maker of his age -- manages a mere half-dozen mentions in the entire book. Even Meyerbeer fares better. And in the survey sections, Kurt Weill, whom Berger erroneously characterizes as the composer of "only one full-length opera," merits almost as much space as Wagner. Jussi Bjoerling is limited to one sentence, the gist of which is that "he can be accused of brassiness." And Giuseppe di Stefano doesn't make it onto the list at all, even though on two separate occasions in the text, Berger refers to him as "perhaps the finest of any Italian tenor." For those coming to opera for the first time through this guide, the book serves as an introduction to another essential element of the art form: a none-too-subtle brand of partisanship.

There are also several disturbing slips in fact-checking: Bjoerling was Swedish, not Norwegian; Maria Malibran, who created no major roles, unless one counts Balfe's The Maid of Artois, did not conquer ...