As always, the writing style is clear and the exercises are well-chosen. I can't imagine teaching linear algebra with any other author.

Paradise Lost can be a difficult read. Personally, I could never get round to comitting myself to the book, but this reading really brings it to life, and is well worth spending the time and money. Milton creates many wonderous and fantastical images and characters. Satan is shown as a tragic hero, tormented by the innocence of Adam and Eve, and prompted to revenge. Milton actually uses his characters to play 'devil's advocate' (literally!) by asking many paradoxical questions of the biblical story. Considering this book was first printed at the height of the witchcraft paranoia of the seventeenth century, it's amazing he managed to get away with it.

Full of allegory and layers of meaning, this is a CD set you can enjoy again and again.

Having read London by Rutherfurd made the tours even better.

This is a book which makes the reader think. Some chapters really leave the reader with the feeling of understanding something new. This book is not light reading. It requires the investment of serious intellectual energy. For the reader willing to make the investment, the rewards can be heavenly.

The titles of the five volumes are as follows:

Summa Contra Gentiles: God

Summa Contra Gentiles: Creation

Summa Contra Gentiles: Providence, Part I

Summa Contra Gentiles: Providence, Part II*

Summa Contra Gentiles: Salvation

Each volume is formally divided into about 100 short chapters. A typical chapter gets its title from some proposition that is to be affirmed, or in some cases refuted. Each paragraph is an argument in support (or denial) of that proposition. The chapters are themselves ordered so that the later chapters build on what the arguments in the earlier chapters have established, and it is this arrangement of chapters that constitutes the real structure of "Summa Contra Gentiles".

Although in his later "Summa Theologica", Thomas formalized the higher-level structure of his writing, he did not do so here, which somewhat complicates any presentation of this structure - the book titles are so high level that they give little feel of the work, and the chapter titles so numerous that the reader is easily overwhelmed by a list of them.

In order to give the reader some sense of the overall work, I've prepared an outline of the work that (hopefully) is short enough to be readily comprehensible and long enough to give the reader an understanding of what topics are covered and in what order. This outline is presented below:

1.0 Summa Contra Gentiles: God

1.1 Intention of the Work (1 - 2)

1.2 Truths of Reason and Revelation (3 - 9)

1.3 That God Exists (10 - 13)

1.4 That God is Eternal (14 - 20)

1.5 God's Essence (21 - 28)

1.6 That God is Known (29 - 36)

1.7 That God is Good, One and Infinite (37 - 44)

1.8 God's Intellect and Knowledge (44 - 71)

1.9 God's Will (72 - 96)

1.10 God's Life and Beatitude (97 - 102)

2.0 Summa Contra Gentiles: Creation

2.1 Purpose of the Work (1 - 5)

2.2 That God is the Creator of All Things (6)

2.3 God's Power Over His Creation (7 - 29)

2.4 For and Against the Eternity of the World (30 - 38)

2.5 The Distinction of Things (39 - 45)

2.6 Intellectual Substances (46 - 55)

2.7 The Intellect, the Soul and the Body (57 - 78)

2.8 Immortality of Man's Soul (79 - 82)

2.9 Origin of Man's Soul (83 - 89)

2.10 On Non-human (Angelic) Intellects (90 - 101)

3.0 Summa Contra Gentiles: Providence (Parts I and II)

3.1 Prologue (1)

3.2 Good, Evil, and God as the End of All Things (2 - 25)

3.3 Human Felicity (26 - 63)

3.4 How God's Providence Works (64 - 94)

3.5 Prayer and Miracles, Magic and Demons (95 - 110)

3.6 Rational Creatures and Divine Law (111 - 130)

3.7 Voluntary Poverty and Continence (131 - 138)

3.9 Rewards and Punishments (139 - 147)

3.10 Sin, Grace, and Predestination (148 - 163)

4.0 Salvation

4.1 Forward (1)

4.2 The Trinity (2 - 16)

4.3 The Incarnation (27 - 55)

4.4 The Sacraments (56 - 78)

4.5 The Resurrection (79 - 97)

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* in searching for Part II of "Providence" in Amazon's book catalog, be sure to search by the full title, or the search results may just return part I.

While it is ideal for the reader to have read Aristotle, particularly his "Physics" and "Metaphysics", less - even much less - will do. What is minimally necessary is an understanding of the vocabulary. Thomas used a number of terms that he acquired from Aristotle that had a particular technical meaning, a meaning that is different from the ordinary meaning of those same terms. Without a good grasp of these terms, the reader simply will not be able to follow Thomas's logic.

Fortunately, the list of important terms is not very large, nor are the meanings especially obscure. The purpose of this review is to list and define these terms. For examples, I will draw on the familiar story of "The Three Little Pigs":

Matter, material - what a thing is made of. The matter of the three little pigs' houses are straw, sticks, and bricks respectively. Contrast with "form".

Form, formal - how a thing is ordered or arranged. The form of all of the three little pigs' houses is the same: "house". Contrast with "matter".

Prime matter - the stuff out of which all physical objects are ultimately made. While the third little pig's house has the form of "house" and the matter of "bricks", "bricks" themselves have a form of "brick" and matter of "earth" (assuming they are earthen bricks), and "earth" itself has a form and matter, and so on. Eventually, this process must end with some matter that is not composed of anything more fundamental. This most fundamental matter is given the name "prime matter".

Substance, substantial - Ordinarily, matter and form together make a substance. The third little pig's house is a substance that combines the matter of "bricks" and the form "house". The possibility of substances which do not ultimately derive from prime matter is an important question (perhaps the important question) of Summa Contra Gentiles.

Sensible - that which is seen, heard, smelt, touched, or tasted. Sometimes this term is used to refer to the sensible qualities themselves (color, sound, etc.) and sometimes to the objects that have those qualities. The little pigs' houses can be seen, so those houses are sensible objects. Contrast with "intelligible".

Intelligible - that which is understood but not sensed. We understand "house", but we cannot see "house", although we can see the three little pig's individual houses. Contrast with "sensible".

Accident, accidental - the qualities of a thing that do not determine what it is. The matter of which the three little pigs' houses are made is accidental; whether a house is made of straw, sticks, or bricks, it is still a house. Contrast with "essence".

Essence, essential - the qualities of a thing that make it what it is. That the three little pigs' houses are places for them to live is essential to those houses; if they couldn't live in them, they wouldn't be houses. Contrast with "accidental".

Quiddity - see "essence".

Privation - a lack of a quality that would ordinarily be present. It would be a privation if the first little pig could not see, but it is not a privation that his house cannot see.

Act, actual - what a thing is at a particular time. After the first little pig builds his house (but before the wolf blows it down) it is a house in act. Contrast with "potency".

Potency, potential - what a thing could be, but is not. Before the first little pig builds his house, the straw of which it is to be made is a house in potency. Contrast with "act".

Motion - sometimes refers specifically to movement in space, at other times to any change in a thing.

Generation - the process of applying form to matter to make a substance. While the first little pig is building his house from straw, the house is in generation. Contrast with "corruption".

Corruption - the process by which matter loses its form and ceases to be a substance. While the wolf is blowing down the first little pig's house, the house is in corruption. Contrast with "generation".

Nature, natural - qualities of a thing or changes to a thing that arise from what it is. It was natural for the sticks of the second little pig's house to stay where he put them. Contrast with "violent".

Violent, violence - motion in a thing that is contrary to its nature. When the sticks in the second little pig's house were blown apart, that change was violent. Contrast with "nature".

Eternal, eternity - often used to mean not dependent on time; as distinct from an infinite amount of time. "House" is eternal but the pig's individual houses were not.

Cause - how a thing came to be. The efficient cause of the first little pig's house was his work in building it. While Aristotle defined four causes: material, efficient, formal, and final, Thomas almost always means the efficient cause when he refers to a thing's cause.

End - why a thing came to be. The final cause, or end, of the little pigs' houses were to give them shelter.

In Chekhov's stories, marriage is hardly a bed of roses, usually resulting in discontentment, depression, and adultery; nowhere is this more perfectly executed than in "The Lady with the Dog," which ends with the two transgressors not contrite over their sins, but resolving to carry on their affair in the face of uncertainty. In "The Party," a young married couple's disharmony culminates in a tragedy that underscores their need to love each other. Chekhov's characters tend to marry for the wrong reasons, like societal pressure, false hopes of marital bliss ("The Helpmate," "Betrothed"), and convenience and mutual benefit ("Anna on the Neck"). His characters usually are people who mean well but do the wrong things: In "At a Country House," a cultural elitist has a habit of scaring off the very men he wants his daughters to marry.

Chekhov also touches on themes of pure, often unrequited, love. "The Beauties" is a plaintive tale of infatuation, of a boy's enthralling first discovery of intangible feminine beauty. His lonely characters, such as in "The Schoolmistress," "A Doctor's Visit," and "The Darling," are often prisoners of their own inhibitions, obsessions, and self-obligations.

Other topics are covered, often exhibiting a world-weary cynicism. In the amusing fable "The Shoemaker and the Devil," the protagonist's conclusion is not the cliched lesson to be thankful for the few things he has in life, but rather that there is nothing in life worth selling his soul to the devil for. "Rothschild's Fiddle" is like a Marc Chagall painting set to prose, portraying the futility and bitterness of life offset by the beauty of art, while "Whitebrow" is a fuzzy parable. Chekhov also displays a talent for drawing comical characters, such as the talkative blowhard in "The Petchenyeg" and the prudish protagonist of "The Man in a Case." A mark of Chekhov's style is that these people often are oblivious to their own idiosyncrasies, a touch that injects as much comedy as tragedy into the stories.

These stories might leave one with the impression that Chekhov was pessimistic about love and marriage, and even life, but in my opinion they emphasize a fundamental truism about fiction -- much as in comedy, where failure is funnier than success, even though "good" love is what makes the world go around, "bad" love is more interesting to write about.

Chekhov is a master, but I almost wish he'd never existed. His prose is so deceptively simple that it will make everyone reading him, be they caterers, kids, or Senate whips, think "I can do that!" Needless to say, they can't.

This doesn't mean anyone will ever stop trying. Chekhov fans the flames of megalomania in what Sartre called the "Sunday writer", dilettantes like Mathieu in The Age of Reason. Almost every short story written now is in either the style of Raymond Carver or Chekhov, and Carver was just the first to graft Chekhov's style onto American subjects. What is that style? It's not as instantly recognizable as Kafka's or Joyce's -- two terminal figures who can't be imitated -- but if you want an example of it, grab any New Yorker that might be lying around the house and flip to the short story. Got one? Okay, now notice how it doesn't end with a swordfight or an orgy. Instead, it will most likely hinge on a simple misunderstanding, such as a man making an offhand comment that causes his wife to lose all respect for him, or else some kind of sudden revelation; like an interior monologue where, after seeing two schoolgirls share a bologna sandwich, a professional woman realizes her entire life is corrupt and shallow. Shocks of recognition, mundane realism, and a muted climax ( this last is especially crucial; the professional woman above wouldn't throw off her worldly chattels and move to India, but would simply go back to her office, maybe even with a little excitement to get to work on a new ad campaign ) -- these are the hallmarks of Chekhovian writing.

The bad news is that we can look forward to an eternity of these pale imitations. Because the times are always changing, Chekhov's journalistic style -- remember he started out as a newspaperman -- ALWAYS APPLIES. It's a nightmare. But that's no reason to keep you, as it kept me for so long, from the original. All of Chekhov's best stories are here, or in the other two volumes of the Modern Library series ( where the nitpicker below can find the other stories whose absence he laments, except "Gusev," which is in this one. )

A good portion of "Rene's Flesh" deals with the main character's experiences at a nightmarish boarding school. The novel includes weird parodies of both Christian iconography and political movements. Grotesque characters have such names as "Ball of Flesh" and "The Skeleton." An unsettling air of paranoia pervades the book.

Although Pinera is a truly original talent, "Rene's Flesh" is reminiscent of the work of some other significant writers. Pinera's portayal of horrific cultic rites is comparable to the work of both J.K. Huysmans and H.P. Lovecraft. His cutting satiric skill calls to mind Ralph Ellison's "Invisible Man."

Those who are fascinated by Pinera's brilliant fiction should check out "Before Night Falls," the moving memoir by exiled Cuban writer Reinaldo Arenas. In that book, Arenas recalls his own relationship with Pinera. Together, Arenas and Pinera represent two of the giants of 20th century Cuban literature, and "Rene's Flesh" is a dark masterpiece.