I’d hardly call Stifter or his stories “obscurities,” but the word certainly fits the other two others here, both writing from the German-speaking borderlands of Europe, one from what is now Latvia and the other from what is now the Czech Republic (sorry, I just can’t use its new name; it sounds like a drug or a toy or…I don’t know what). The stories, including Stifter’s, are all ably done, enjoyable to read, but that’s as far as I’ll go. My time was definitely not wasted, but I also won't go to great lengths to see the other two writers out, though their personal stories are interesting. All three stories qualify as obscurities, I’m sorry to say. Even Stifter’s—and I am a big fan of his writing. This particular story, though, is extraordinarily, almost unforgiveably, slow. Some 95% of the story is setup to a very quick and thoroughly predictable end. (Final note: this was apparently a labor of love by the translators who dedicate the work to a professor. They do not identify themselves, their relationship to the dedicatee, or their qualifications. While their German may be fluent and even excellent, their translations are too often a little awkward or worse. This volume would have benefitted from a good editor--or someone who read the translations and pointed out the infelicities to them before they published it.) ( )