A great writer and talent. This book is also a great memior ofLondon's theatrical scene. Simon didn't use Peggy and Peggy didn't useSimon. Rather, this work is a wonderful testament to a very close and very personal friendship. They were kindred spirits who shared so much in common. Peggy loved art and loved life and part of her mission was to educate Simon and pass her talents and knowledge onto him. This is at once a riveting and at times sad and melancholy piece of writing. Callow really brings Peggy to life and having been to London and being familiar with the West End I could really identify with this work. It paints a fascinating portrait and provides an exclusive insight into London's literary, artistic and theatrical scene. This is a finely tuned and astute piece of work and Callow should be congratulated on producing a sensitive, emotional and beautiful homage to a woman who was indeed talented, strong and influential.

I sat down last night to read a chapter or two of this book that had been recommended to me for over a year. I literally could not put it down and finished it 6 hours later, at 5:00 a.m. It is, quite simply, one of the most moving, beautifully and tenderly and honestly written memoirs I've read in years.

How does one describe a true, deep friendship? What makes it work and what makes it fall apart from time to time? London-1980: Callow, thirty years old (an actor at the beginning of an impressive career) met possibly the most important influence in his life: the seventy year old Margaret (Peggy) Ramsay, the internationally known, respected, feared and beloved theatrical agent.

What follows are the special fireworks of their loving friendship until Ramsay's painful, ugly, difficult death from cancer.

A knowledge and/or love of contemporary British theatre could only add to your enjoyment of this book, but anyone who has lived through an impossible love or friendship with a larger-than-life partner; anyone who has known and lost true love; anyone who enjoys reading beautifully fashioned prose--will treasure this book.

I, frankly, do not understand the reviewers below who feel that Callow shamefully "uses" Ramsay in this tribute to her and their relationship. Isn't that what lovers and dear friends do? Don't we all use each other? And get used by our partners? Not USED UP, mind you. But "used" in the best sense. Isn't that what we're here for? To take chances, risk hurt and be used by those we love? HIGHLY RECOMMENDED.

Perhaps some of my fellow reviewers will consider me not only lacking in conscience, but also misguided and over emotional! I have literally just finished Simon Callow's book and feel compelled to write about it. I purchased my copy after I saw the play by Alan Plater currently running in London's West End, starring Mauren Lipman as Peggy Ramsay. I am half way through my life and this is the first time that a book (prose) has ever reduced, or rather heightened me to tears. I caught nothing of the author's opportunism, but only discovered that there are people who have a passion for life and love in all its many guises and whilst it is clear that many seem suspicious of such depths of feeling or indeed may deny its existence, this book serves as an inspiration and affirmation to those of us who may be deemed foolish enough to recognise and pursue it.

Five characters, two different settings, three acts; an overpowering mother, a doting son, a jilted aunt, a lecherous father, and an innocent young girl -- Cocteau takes all of this, and weaves together an odd story of the ultimate dysfunctional family. This translation was used by the Royal National Theatre in London for the recent "revival" of the play, which eventually came to New York and starred Kathleen Turner and British newcomer Jude Law. Cocteau adapted this play for a french film version several years after it closed. Not for those looking for "light entertainment;" some may be disturbed by the oedipal themes which Cocteau explored in this work, but definitely satisfying for those looking for "different" or "thought-provoking" theatre (or the "just strange" style for that matter).

While not quite up to the 5-star standard of EXPECTING SOMEONE TALLER, FAUST AMONG EQUALS is certainly more than equal to the task of entertaining a reader for an afternoon. Holt's unique spin on theology, literature, and popular culture continues to be worth the price of admission to the "Disney-meets-Dante" theme-park ride contained between the covers of this novel.

Almost back to his original stride, this is probably the Holt that I've enjoyed the most in the last five books. That enjoyment can also be summarized in one word: Eurobosch. Yes, following DisneyWorld, the MGM Grand Theme Park, Atlantic City, and Cyberia, the most famous theme park in all of history is now open for business. Based on that mad genious Hieronymous Bosch and his most famous work, "The Garden of Earthly Delights," and operated by the holding company of Beelzebub, et al. You don't have to take the painting and imagine what thrilling rides and attractions are available--Holt has it down.

That's just a part of the book, though. The plot concerns a certain George Faustus who has managed to effect an escape from Hell, right during an impending audit. Now that Hell's operated as a business-- once you start reinventing government, it was inevitable--the loss of a major asset can't be tolerated, and the chase is on.

The good parts here are equal to his previous best, parts like Helen of Troy being a lovely and perfect little woman with a slight penchant for decorating. In the time of Homer, that couldn't amount to much (what? a curtain over the castle window?), but with centuries of design to choose from.... And Leonardo da Vinci--wasn't he just the greatest geek that ever lived? And that's only a couple of the strange yet amusing additions to the lives of historical and fictional personages in the story.

Faust Among Equals is of the school of Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy type of humor. It's not as good as HHGG, but that's asking a lot. It is, however, clever and quick, with wry references to Faust, Helen of Troy, and Hieronymous Bosch and lots of contemporary commentary (Australia doesn't come off too well). I listened to the book on tape and Simon Callow is so good at droll characterizations that I cannot imagine reading it myself. Well done.