General Theory of the Fascist State by Sergio Panunzio advances the doctrine of the Fascist State based on lecture notes from university courses he gave at the Faculty of Political Science of the University of Rome beginning in 1928. First published in 1937-XV under the title of Teoria generale dello Stato fascista, it represents the summa of his political and juridical thought with respect to the Fascist State.

In the author's own words: "It must be noted here that the Theory of the Fascist State, insofar as a study of the particular and original institutions of the new State, rests on three points: Syndicates, Corporations, and Party. Thus, the general Theory of the Fascist State, strictly speaking, in order to embrace the entire Fascist State, encompasses three distinct theories: the general theory of the Syndicate; the general theory of the Corporation; the general theory of the Party."

Sergio Panunzio (AD 1886-1944) was an Italian jurist, publicist, philosopher, journalist and professor. One of the major exponents of revolutionary syndicalism, he became, after the Great War, one of the most important theoreticians of Italian Fascism. What Giovanni Gentile had done for Fascism on the philosophical level, Panunzio did on the juridical.

The Furthest Reaches: The Nearest Touch, by Richard Robinson, is the story of a married man of a certain age – let us call him September – who has a problem in life so refractory that he seeks escape on the last ferry of the season, as it sails along the Alaskan Peninsula, across the Aleutian chain, to the furthest reaches of the earth, at the edge of the Pacific.

Literarily, September is a cross between the angry man of Notes from Underground (Dostoevsky), the unreliable narrator Dowell of The Good Soldier (Ford Madox Ford), and the talented lush Dick Diver of Tender Is the Night (F. Scott Fitzgerald).

Told in his own words, The Furthest Reaches: The Nearest Touch is a day-by-day, hour-by-hour log of one alcohol-drenched week of adventure – on land and at sea; it is a story of glinting beauty and dry humor, but also of tedium, repetition, and deep sadness – the darkness and despair are so thick at times, you could cut them with a boning knife.