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About 1525 the wealthy and influential bürgermeister of Schwäbisch Hall learned that his daughter Anna was juggling two lovers and had, during his absence, entertained one of them with a raid on the paternal wine cellar. He disinherited her. Anna, who was no meek maiden, sued. The action continued until her death, in 1552, with claims and counterclaims proceeding through the various courts available in the Holy Roman Empire--courts that often disagreed on their areas of jurisdiction and even viewed one another as rivals. Professor Ozment's reconstruction of this family money row develops into an account of the religious and social upheavals of the period and into analyses of inheritance law, the position of women, business practices, and local political chicanery. It is, in short, a very considerable history by an accomplished scholar, covering everything from women's hats to papal wars.

The unpretentious ease of Mr. Thomas's fly-fishing memories derives from his love of wild country, his respect for any fish that "turned aerial cartwheels and otherwise conducted themselves . . . well on the end of the line," and his belief that fishing, regardless of expectations or results, is fun. "And fun is never disappointing."

Discretion was expected of a nineteenth-century gentleman, and the painter Manet (1832­1883) was a gentleman by birth who remained true to the standards of his class--to the restrained annoyance of his biographer. Ms. Brombert can only speculate about discontent with his fat wife, guilt over their illegitimate son, and love affairs with women including Berthe Morisot. There is no evidence on any of those matters, and the biographer gives them rather too much space. What Ms. Brombert does very well indeed is to describe Manet's professional situation as a painter of contemporary life, much admired by his colleagues and much reviled by conservative and intemperate critics. The fury Manet aroused may have been caused in part by the mischievous question implied in one of his most famous works: Why is a naked female in an improbable setting and titled Venus a respectable nude, but a scandal if she is called Olympia and reclines on a modern bed? What are you fellows really admiring? It remains a question worth considering, although Manet's status as a great and innovative painter poses no question at all.