Discomfort takes us on a journey under the thin skin of civilisation—and into the overwhelming power of the natural world.

Lorenz Urbach, a teacher, is increasingly troubled by a vague discomfort: a political dissatisfaction, a sense of being overwhelmed and world-weary. Suddenly he has an outburst of aggression—he gets into a fight and his life is turned upside down. When reports start to appear of a blood-thirsty animal causing trouble in the Alps, it triggers deep-seated memories in Lorenz. The media is speculating wildly—could it be a wolf? or perhaps a human being?—and Lorenz thinks of his childhood friend Theresa, the perennial outsider, the social dropout, forever primed for violence … He sets off on a solitary hike into the mountains, grappling with the forces of nature, searching both for the ‘monster’ out in the wilds and for the origins of the violence in himself.

Death, wood and eternal life

Few things are as diverse as deadwood. So much more than the remnants of old trees on the forest floor, it comes in an array of forms, providing habitats for insects and other organisms. Dead roots under the water, wooden coffins buried beneath the ground in urban spaces – this close interplay of decay and new life is all around us. If we look closely, we can see how the once-extinct beaver is now paving the way for other species, like the endangered saproxylic beetle. Deadwood also teaches us to have a positive outlook for our coexistence with local biodiversity, showing that there have already been a number of improvements in the past hundred years. An exciting journey through the secret world of insects, fungi and other creatures that live in the deadwood in our forests, parks and gardens.

Great composers under fire: amusing scathing reviews from throughout history.

‘Bruckner composes like a drunkard’: this was the conclusion reached by one music critic in 1866, after the Viennese premiere of Anton Bruckner’s Seventh Symphony. You don’t hear this sort of opinion much these days, when the great works of the classical repertoire – admired, revered, above any reproach – are performed in concert halls and opera houses across the world. A glance into the archives, however, reveals some disrespectful but amusing takes: Thomas Leibnitz shows how harsh contemporary critics could be towards works by composers now considered the undisputed giants of classical music – Ludwig van Beethoven, Richard Wagner, Giuseppe Verdi, Anton Bruckner, Johannes Brahms, Richard Strauss, Gustav Mahler and Arnold Schoenberg.