A heartfelt and harrowing examination of various cultural elements, as disparate as the Rose Theatre in london to the Anita Hill/Clarence Thomas hearings, in which Phelan has found the common thread of the public performance of mourning. "Mourning" for Phelan means not merely the connotative sense of sadness and crying, but rather a sense of longing, a sense of inaction, an inability to properly react, to remember.The book stands along the intersection of two primary elements. First, it stands as an insightful series of performance criticism; she is especially illuminating in her dissection of the cultural and sexual implications in the uncovering of the Rose Theatre, in which Christopher Marlowe often had his plays performed. At times, however, the book itself becomes a forum for performance itself, most vividly and movingly in "Shattered Skulls", where, as many times in the book, the narrative turns into a first person perspective, although this first person is not quite Phelan herself. With the juxtaposition of thses two elements, Phelan effectively traces and exposes the inherent performance tropes which both infuse and infect out everyday relations.This meager review cannot adequately describe the shimmering beauty of Phelan's prose and her laser-sharp insight. I cannot recommed it highly enough.