From Publishers Weekly Gregory， a straight-jacketed child， is eternally trapped in a barren holding cell where he spends his time in drooling vegetation， banging his head on walls or shouting nonsensical， monosyllabic words. The only thing Gregory can communicate is his own name， which he enjoys screaming to the consternation of medical staff， therapists and asylum outsiders. This is a collection of low-brow humor based on Gregory's misadventures in confinement， a cartoonish， hyperbolic story presented in Hempel's casual， sketchy style. In "Gregory's Big Day，" a man in a suit sets Gregory free to the outside world. Not sure what to do， Gregory stays paralyzed in the same spot for hours and eventually returns to the asylum's restricted confines. Even with his lack of communication skills， Gregory manages to make friends with creatures that crawl up through his sewage drain， such as a cockroach and a pseudo-intellectual rat named Herman Vermin. Herman also lends his sarcastic perspective to a few stories， including a fantasy sequence of Gregory as a pipe-smoking， goateed erudite; and a dream where Herman is writing a critically acclaimed autobiography， surrounded by rat-women and sycophants. Compared to Herman's self-absorbed reflections， Gregory is idyllic and carefree， demonstrating that ignorance can be bliss. While this anthology attempts to take witty punches at an absurd predicament， the asylum joke wears thin quickly. Copyright © Reed Business Information， a division of Reed Elsevier Inc. All rights reserved. From Booklist Looking like Bill Watterson's Calvin's stunted cousin， Gregory is a boy lunatic， straitjacketed in a cell with one barred window， a drain， and the stereotypical double-lock， peep-holed door. His only statement is "I Gregory，" though he often runs around screaming "uh" or "ah." Given such a protagonist， Hempel can either essay silence a la The Little King， Henry， Mr. Mum， and Ziggy， or add speaking characters. He uses only sound effects when Gregory sheds the straitjacket in "A Hello to Arms，" but the piece is uneasily sentimental. He prefers adding characters: asylum staff， health inspectors， passersby， normally speechless things (window， floor， door， drain， light)， and， triumphantly， Herman Vermin， an idiotic， serially reincarnated， motormouth rat， and his cheese-aholic mouse pal， Wendell. Even Gregory gets to talk in Herman's "Disturbing and Completely Illogical Dream，" and， eventually， Herman takes the limelight in the funniest stuff in this gathering of two out-of-print collections from 1989 and 1992. Politically incorrect， or plain insensitive， they may be， but Gregory and company are as wonderfully loony as Chuck Jones' best 'toons. Ray OlsonCopyright © American Library Association. All rights reserved