Identity has grown in stature since its early and unpromising days, and now attracts some of Cambridge's best writers. There has been an equivalent growth in price, so that each issue now costs fifty cents. Unfortunately, in the latest issue the size of the magazine continues static: Identity is as dainty as it was in the days of its sickly youth, publishing only a brief one-act play by Charles Mee, Anyone! Anyone!, Mark Mirsky's very short story, Shkootz, and Caroms, eight poems by Stephen Sandy.

If the problem is that there simply aren't enough good writers to fill up thick magazines (a fact of which I am unconvinced, having read much excellent unpublished material), then editors should include more work by the writers that they have discovered. Mr. Mee's play, for example, is part of a trilogy, and I would have been delighted to have the chance to read the other two plays.

Anyone! Anyone! is a delight, delicately treading the line between a blaring SIGNIFICANCE and a clever, amusing self-mockery. Arthur and Junior are two decrepit old men, trying to save their ramshackle house from destruction.

(Heerwego enters from the door on the right, dressed in sports clothes--with bright, flowered, garish sport shirt, straw hat. He is slightly chubby.)

Heerwego: Well, now. Well, now. How's about a howdy for Big Bill Heerwego?

Arthur: Heerwego?

Heerwego: That's what I said: Heerwego, from City Slum Clearance. I've come to give you the word about the building.

Junior: What about it?

Heerwego: It is going the way of all flesh. In a short time we tear it down--(with relish) SMASH! Like that.

Junior: We?

Heerwego: The people.

Arthur: Yes, I've met them, Junior. It's all right.

Heerwego: You'll have to move on out, my friends, before the big crane with the big steel bell moves on in--and SMASH! !

Junior: Move out?

Arthur: We won't move. I have influence!