This is a collection of essays that was originally presented at the University of New Hampshire–Durham in March 2017. The editors, Carmen García de la Rasilla and Jorge Abril Sánchez, did a remarkable job in the selection of authors and articles. The book starts with an introduction by Edward H. Friedman, wherein he views Don Juan as a trickster figure whose “elasticity may be his most salient feature” (19). Friedman does not take issue with respect to the authorship of El burlador de Sevilla, where Don Juan appears; instead, he prudently limits his comments to noting that Tirso de Molina is the foremost authorial contender, albeit Andrés de Claramonte has “vigorous supporters” (18). The remainder of this work, consisting of six sections, addresses sundry issues. The first one focuses on the authorship of El burlador de Sevilla, the second on cosmological, geographical and spiritual spaces in that same work, the third on Don Juan’s “principles”: (perversion, hedonism, and what is called ludic theatricality), the fourth on the perception of the classic playboy under a feminist gaze, the fifth on the legacy of the protean Don Juan figure, and the sixth on Don Juan’s impact on pictorial representations and film.The first section, dedicated to the authorship of El burlador de Sevilla, starts with Alfredo Rodríguez López-Vázquez’s well-known assertion that El burlador de Sevilla, El condenado por desconfiado, and El infanzón de Illescas are three works misattributed to Tirso de Molina. The author relies in part on metrical analyses undertaken by S. G. Morley in 1911. He also mentions (María) Torre Temprano’s (1977) doctoral research at the University of Navarra, although he fails to mention her full name or, in the Works Cited section, the title of the dissertation, which deals precisely with metrics in Tirso’s works. Although Rodríguez López-Vázquez makes a case for Andrés de Claramonte as the author of El burlador, he provides no adequate evidence, perhaps for lack of space. He limits his discussion to comments he and other critics have made. He also does not mention stylometry, a method that would have provided him with substantial, although not necessarily failsafe arguments for his thesis.In the section devoted to space, Frederick A. De Armas’ essay uses Empedocles to position Don Juan’s conquered women within the male or female cosmological spheres of influence. Expanding on earlier work by Francisco J. Martín, De Armas places Isabela and Aminta, respectively, within the allegedly masculine elements of fire and earth; Doña Ana and Tisbea within the purportedly female spaces of air and water. Hence, “He who controls the elements, it would seem, can control the environment” (70). Antonio Guijarro Donadiós’ article deals with the geographical spaces traversed by Don Juan, noting that “Don Juan continually invades the public and private spaces of others—of course never the other way around” (90). In effect, Don Juan lacks his own space. Charles Victor Ganelin associates touch in both El burlador and Zorrilla’s Don Juan Tenorio with transcendence and views it as an inversion of the Pygmalion myth. In the second play, Doña Inés’ touch enables Don Juan to save himself from eternal damnation. Hence, “Touch in its multiple possibilities offers a fluid pathway between the one touched and the one touching” (100).In the next section, James Mandrell and Ricardo de la Fuente Ballesteros cope with the post-Burlador phenomenon in Ramón del Valle-Inclán and José Zorrilla. James Mandrell’s essay is profound in its analysis of the complementary and not oppositional life and death drives formulated by Freud. Hence, if Eros hides Thanatos, then, in the case of Valle-Inclán’s Sonatas, wherein death is erotized and displaced on to the lovers of the donjuanesque Marqués de Bradomín, the Marqués, “in the winter of life,” simply “refuses to die” (123). This displacement of the death drive explains Don Juan’s perdurability and his many alterations in the Romantic and Modern periods. Ricardo de la Fuente Ballesteros takes a theatrical approach to the myth and sees Don Juan as a cyclical Dionysian figure more interested in the burla than pleasure. For this critic, who relies on an idea formulated earlier by Robert ter Horst, “the existence of Don Juan is a Carnival that does not end” (136). But since life carries within itself the tragedy of death, then, in Zorrilla’s rendition of the Don Juan story, the spirit of Lent prevalent in the second part of Don Juan Tenorio, brings with it death and immobility: “We have lived a homeopathic process in which life and death meet and will return, again, to exist in the next festivity, in a new performance of the work” (146).In section four, Margaret E. Boyle and Robert E. Bayliss view Don Juan from a feminist gaze. Boyle claims, erroneously, that the term violar “is completely absent” from Covarrubias’ 1611 Tesoro de la lengua castellana o española and the 1739 Diccionario de autoridades (157). Following historian Renato Barahona, she relies on the word estupro to refer to sexual misconduct associated with seduction, a breach of promise, abandonment, and claims of damages. In the end, she concludes that “the play posits language as the critical axis between gender and victimization” (164). Bayliss views El burlador as “one of the most canonical and influential codifications of misogyny and sexual abuse of the Western tradition” (167). In the end, he paraphrases PSUC member and invited UK guest Lidia Falcón’s exhortation to students to “protect yourself, be vigilant, and work together to cure the patriarchy of its myopia. Taking back the night is important, but so is reforming the system in the light of day so that such protections are no longer needed” (180).The last two sections of this book, the first on Don Juan’s protean legacy, the second on his reach in art and film, are perhaps the most unique and original features of this work. In a Foucaldian reading of El burlador and José de Espronceda’s El estudiante de Salamanca, Daniel Lorca distinguishes between two forms of judicial power: 1) personal, monarchical, and divine vindictiveness, which he associates with the Baroque; and 2) impersonal and secular concepts of the law, which he links to post-Kantian Enlightenment theories. He applies the first type to El burlador; the second to El estudiante. Fernando Beleza’s study of failed seduction, as reflected in Fernando Pessoa’s The Book of Disquiet, evinces a form on non- or counter-donjuanism. The author herewith associates Don Juan with conquest and accumulation, as well as heteronormativity. The inadaptados (214), however, create the consciousness of the world (215). It is uncertain, though, whether Don Juan, as Beleza views him, represents heteronormativity or perhaps simply a canceled societal surplus. Vicente Pérez de León deals with the continuation of the Don Juan myth in England, after the 1817 premiere of Mozart and Da Ponte’s Don Giovanni. The myth survived in the UK as the aristocratic Don Juan figure becomes the mock hero of the Cockney working classes in the sundry burlette popular in the nineteenth century. After John William Polidari’s 1819 publication of “The Vampyre,” Don Juan becomes associated with the undead in works like the 1821 burletta Giovanni the Vampire. Fernando González de León makes a case for seeing the nineteenth-century vampire figure as “the Gothic Don Juan” since both narcissists are associated with the dead and their ability to “endlessly return to thrill, threaten and debauch” (247). This critic points to Thomas Shadwell’s 1674 play The Libertine as the first to allude to a debaucher’s association with blood-drinking and vampirism (248–49). After assessing the many mutations of the Don Juan figure in the modern period, among them Oscar Wilde’s Dorian Gray and Bram Stoker’s Dracula, this critic’s eventual conclusion is that “The ultimate scion of Don Juan is James Bond” (263).The final two essays of this book deal with the great painters’ interpretation of Don Juan and with filmic representations of donjuanism, with a tint of queerness. Carmen García de la Rasilla succinctly analyses paintings by Juan de Valdés Leal, Francisco de Goya, Alexandre-Évariste Fragonard (whose Don Juan et la statue du Commandeur serves as the cover picture for this book), Eugène Delacroix, Ford Madox Brown, Giacomo Grosso, Salvador Dalí, and others. In this section, the inclusion of illustrations or at least links to the pertinent paintings would have been appreciated. The final work, by Daniel Chávez, deals with Mexican masculinities and the queering of the Don Juan figure in Carlos Velo’s 1967 film Don Juan 67. In this work, the middle-aged Mauricio Galán falls in love with a young plumber who is actually a disguised underage female. As he is pursued by multiple women, Mauricio haphazardly encounters Death, a female figure, who becomes his (or her) last conquest. The film is remarkable and, as Chávez indicates, “Who would have thought that in Mexico the actualization of the Don Juan myth would become a point of departure in the discussion and visualization of gender and sexual rights in the twentieth century” (297).This book is an outstanding and very complete study of the Don Juan figure in particular and donjuanismo in general. The title, which is apt, necessarily excludes whatever possibly positive qualities the Don Juan figure might possess, like freedom and rebellion against, precisely, heteronormativity and the status quo. Likewise, with the exception of the Chávez essay, which deals with gender fluidity, it does not address other manifestations of donjuanismo, like the female Don Juan or Doña Juana figure manifested in works like Roger Vadim’s 1973 Don Juan ou Si Don Juan était une femme . . ., which Esther Andrés Montecatini has studied recently (Anagnórisis, 19, 2019, 154–66). But, since Don Juan is such a protean figure, future edited volumes might perhaps address those issues.