Performing Power: The Political Secrets of Gustav III (1771–1792) By Maria Berlova. Edited by Michael Kroetch. Abingdon: Routledge, 2021; pp. viii + 242. $136 cloth, $48.95 e-book.

at the time had some sort of censorship office—the difference here was “not in the matter but in the means” (156). Zurlo had to navigate not only the needs of the state but also Mussolini’s taste, which meant that censorship under Fascism was never as straightforward as it might seem from the outside. In a relatively liberal theatre-making environment, in which ideologically diverse plays were staged by myriad companies with divergent politics, only 9.4 percent of theatrical texts submitted to Zurlo were ultimately rejected. The picture that emerges is one of a censorship office engaged in a “relations-management task that went far beyond . . . ensuring orthodoxy in production” (162). While I would be curious about Mussolini’s attitude toward the historical avantgardes of futurism, dada, or surrealism—which all produced significant theatrical works during this period—I have nothing but praise for Gaborik’s work. It is carefully argued, engagingly written, exceptionally well documented, and full of surprising reversals of accepted wisdom. In letting the facts breathe and the history unfold before our eyes, Gaborik has produced an important work that will interest theatre scholars, art historians, and anyone curious about understanding not only how the interface between Fascism and art works, but also, perhaps, how to meet Fascism on this terrain in order to combat it.