Wolff, a Harvard professor who already is the author of several books and articles on Bach, has left no stone unturned in examining the life of the master: Contemporary records, from church meetings to records of payments and performance schedules, are examined, giving us the small details as well as the big picture. (For example, there's an innkeeper's invoice attesting to Bach's expenses during a trip to Halle, Germany, to advise on a large-scale organ project. There are good-sized bills for beer, brandy and tobacco as well as for food; Wolff tells us that Bach's beer bill would buy 32 quarts of beer at the existing retail price.)

Beer bills aside, Wolff is at his best in analyzing the relationship between Bach's life and his music - why a period of forced inactivity produced some keyboard masterworks, for example, and what may have gone into the composer's decision to choose widely diverse instrumentation for the Brandenburg Concertos.

There are tantalizing hints about Bach's many lost works, discussions about the music of other composers Bach studied and played, details about the coffeehouses in which the local musical societies (Bach included) regularly performed, even lists of the performers at various courts and churches where Bach performed. In sum: a remarkable portrait of the man many consider history's greatest musician.

Arranged chronologically, the encyclopedia also allows readers to follow six different themes by noting colored icons at the top of each division: Arts and Culture, Inside the Music, the Voice, Performance, Women in Music and Influences. These themes provide insights into the development of music through the ages. Each era has various subsections, such as Key Composers, Styles and Forms or Instruments; there are recommendations and references to important recordings of major works (some of the recordings can be followed track by track with commentary in the encyclopedia).

Easy to read, easy to access, welcoming to the nonspecialist, and so beautifully designed that your eye will be drawn again and again into the text, this encyclopedia could prove addictive.

The saga of Gunther and Rosemarie, who meet following a rehearsal of Tchaikovsky's "Pathetique" Symphony in Frankfurt and who finally escape to the United States in 1941, is made all the more harrowing by recounting the fate of other relatives who were not so lucky. Deeply personal and disturbing, this book illuminates a little-known chapter of musical history.

After wading through biographies of Callas by her sister, her mother, her estranged husband, a personal assistant, a cousin and even the wife of an ex-lover (among several others), Gage decided he could do better.

It's not entirely clear that he did. For one thing, Gage practically dislocates his arm patting himself on the back for his contacts, his sources and his research, claiming to know the contents of conversations he could not have overheard.

And what has he uncovered? Some insights into the yacht's passenger list (resolving the question of whether any Agnelli family members were present on one fateful cruise), the probable date of Onassis' first sexual encounter with Callas (in more detail than many readers will appreciate), and the unlikelihood of Callas' purported abortion at Onassis' demand (alluded to in the play, "Master Class"). Gage's big coup is the sad photograph of a dead baby, which he identifies as a premature infant - Callas' son by Onassis - who was born and died in 1960.

If all this were brilliantly written, it could be an enthralling story; The main characters are two of the most mesmerizing overreachers of the past century. The tone, however, is flat, detail-driven and haranguing, a gloomy parade of hangers-on who all want to demonstrate their self-importance in the endless interviews with anyone who so much as pressed a dress for Callas.

Packaged with a CD that has Staryk tracks keyed to informative notes in the book, this memoir ranges far and wide - from Staryk's early years in Canada to his rise to eminence as the concertmaster of three of the world's finest orchestras. It's an interesting life and Staryk has many unexpected observations ("If I had it to do over again, I would go the route of early music. The performances of early-music artists are less distorted, there is less interference from ego.").

Structurally, the book hops around quite a bit, often sounding like unadulterated Staryk and then moving inexplicably off into third-person narrative. Observations, quotes, tributes and asides pull the story line in several different directions. Despite Staryk's many achievements and the high honor in which he is held by his colleagues, there is a faint air of disappointment that permeates the later chapters, concluding with an "afterthought" that muses, "For one who detests inefficiency and irresponsibility, it has been a very stressful and frantic life."

A key subchapter is titled, "Why didn't Steven Staryk have a major solo career?" It's a good question, one that is central to Staryk's musical personality.

Lewis discusses Staryk's reserve and dignity on the stage, in an era in which more popular violinists freely exhibit their feelings and emotions in their faces and bodies on the stage. One observer notes, "He doesn't try to sell himself," and that may be the problem; certainly his playing was impeccable and technically brilliant. The same reserve exhibited in his playing is telegraphed in this book, suggesting an artist whose secrets are not for public display.