Knight's theories have become commonplaces. The idea that Hamlet is a bad guy? The theories the Duke of Measure for Measure and Timon of Athens are Christ figures? All those are propounded for (as far as I know) the first time in this eloquent book. Aside from having famous theories, Knight supports his claims, which at first can seem absurd, with mountains of evidence gathered from a fine-toothed reading of the text. He never makes obvious points or fallacious arguments; he starts out by noticing fine details in the text and then draws these into a coherent, convincing whole. I don't agree with every word he's ever written, but all his words are brilliant. Knight is the best literary critic I have ever read, by a wide margin, and this may be his best book.

This probably qualifies as the strangest book i've read all year. I was reminded of Williams by reading C.S. Lewis's letters; i had read one of his books before, "Descent into Hell" i think, and remembered the strangeness, but this really is amazing. How many other books do you know in which one of the two main characters is dead, in which the dead and living can communicate almost as easily as we do every day, in which magic is serious and scary? Mainstream books, that is, not Goosebumps, with an introduction by T.S. Eliot, with the whole thing to be understood as at least feasible if not truth. This is unusual. And yet, and yet the whole thing works. It is the story of two dead women, killed during an air raid on war-torn London, and the choices they make ~ or the choices they made while alive ~ and how they affect the world of the still living. It is also the story of an evil (American) magus, Simon, who practises (actually, he's very good at it) real black magic. His desire to rule the world, and the plan he has to use his daughter to gain the power to do so, is in the end defeated by Lester, one of the dead women, her husband, his friend, and the friend's fiancée ~ Simon the Clerk's daughter. The evil is real, overbearing, even, though it is bizarre; one gets the idea that all the Clerk does is feasible, that Williams has experienced evil in his life, that he knows whereof he writes. The descriptions of the dead, of the City they inhabit (both London and not-London), are also real, persuasive; Williams must have had some foreknowledge, one feels, to write the way he wrote. Reading him takes quite an investment, of time, of thought, of disbelief suspension; it is, however, well worth the cost: The payoff is a gripping book, plenty of thought, and a clearer vision of life. I shall have to read another Williams, but perhaps not too soon.

Published in 1945 and still in print, this is the last of the novels of Charles Williams, who along with J.R.R. Tolkien and C.S. Lewis was one of the Oxford literary group the Inklings. The recent increase in popularity of his fiction, initially boosted by his association with the Inklings, is probably due to the current success of the Frank Peretti thrillers, and the LaHaye-Jenkins 'Left Behind' series. However, in contrast to the current populists Mr Williams is intellectually quite a demanding read.

All Hallows Eve is another Williams ghost story, gently told in his own highly unorthodox style. Two young women have been killed in an accident in the aftermath of the WWII air raids on London, but their ghostly participation in the story is as real as that of any of the living people. It is probably fair to say that this novel, as with most Charles Williams fiction, is not recommended for the overly sensitive person, and could easily be misinterpreted the overly hasty.

Simon LeClerk is a powerful mage, more a Saruman than a Gandalf, and his plan is domination of this world and - more worryingly - any other that he can access. His adoring acolytes form the powerbase of his support for a new world religion. Betty, daughter of one of these acolytes, is the unwilling dupe of the magician, and the key subject in his most daring and horrible experiment. An artist is the bereaved husband of Evelyn, one of the ghosts, and a civil servant is Betty's intended husband.

The characters have depth and robust individual style. While many an author can paint real villains doing convincingly bad things, Williams is unusual in that his good characters and their goodness are equally if not more convincing. Their goodness is genuinely felt and is strongly attractive. There is no hint that the villains have all the fun or that the author really has little idea of how to portray true goodness, or even what it is.

From this novel I also gained a valuable insight into the true nature and function of art. Rather like 'The Picture of Dorian Gray', two of the artist's paintings play a pivotal part in the story. The artist manages in one picture to catch and portray something of a hidden truth about the city of London, and in the other something about the magician himself (who approves of the picture). As these things could not be captured by any mere photograph, the art has to say what can best be said, or perhaps only be said, in a painting.

Whatever your ideas of heaven and hell, they will never be the same after reading Charles Williams. Whether the new images will be comfortable or not is another question. In some ways Williams's picture of heaven is, if anything, more frightening than the conventional depiction of hell. It's certainly considerably more compelling. His dead protagonist was one scared woman--and so was I, for most of the novel. In "All Hallows' Eve" Williams gives his eschatological images expression in their leanest, purest form, mingled with other terrific and similarly life-threatening images of the war that was then engulfing the world. Read it!

I began reading Middlemarch to hate it. Although I had enjoyed other period dramas such as Jane Eyre (despite the often ridiculous plot), I couldn't help but feel that any book that was dragged out to over 900 pages was long-winded at best. I am pleased to say that I proved myself wrong, after I had a startling revelation about chapter 10 that I had actually enjoyed the book thus far. The charcters, whilst not all particularly likeable, are no doubt believable &, in some cases, such that we can sympathise & even relate to them. I should think that any reader would judge Dorothea's fascination with Casaubon to be misguided, but George Eliot herself asks us to be sympathetic, as lots of people, even in this day & age, make the same mistakes.

I have heard it said that Middlemarch is boring. Far from it. In fact, Middlemarch relates to modern society much in the same way that the Chrisitan principles of the Bible can still be practised. For example, the book says a lot about the nature of marriage & love, as well as politics & even such personal issues as integrity & honour. You simply have to read the book with an open mind.

For me, the book was mainly about Dorothea Brooke & Dr Tertius Lydgate, as we follow both characters from courtship, into marriage, and from there, unhappiness. Both marry for the wrong reasons - Dorothea to be some sort of secretary to the father-figure she lacked in her upbringing, and Lydgate because he sees Rosamond as an ornament that looks good with him. In both cases, even if we do not agree with the descisions of the charcters, we can at least take an interest in their lives, as well as sympathise with them, identify with them, and such forth.

Whilst I would not recommend Middlemarch to just anyone it is definately a good book, and well worth a read for more than the fact that it is one of the great recognised literary works.

It's comparatively easy to describe things as we wish them to be than to describe them as they really are. With "Middlemarch", George Eliot has accomplished one of the truly difficult tasks in literature: to describe things as they really are and still hold the reader's interest with less than exceptional characters.

"Middlemarch" was Eliot's attempt to describe a pre-reform English country town. Within the novel we run across the typical characters like the wealthy land owners, clergymen, polticians, etc. The book primarily revolves around the actions of two families, the Brookes and the Vincys.

The main characters are Dorothea Brooke and Tertius Lydgate, a newcomer to Middlemarch. Dorothea has an independent mind at a time when women were supposed to be openly subservient to men. She intends to do much good in the world and is constantly drawing up 'plans'. Lydgate is a physician who wants to make improvements in the medical field. He has a solid idea of what he wants to do with his life and how to accomplish it.

Through these two characters, Eliot presents the frustrations and joys to which we can be driven because of an idealistic mind. Both Dorothea and Lydgate are idealists. Both encounter many trials because of their idealism, trials that they overcome in their own ways.

In "Middlemarch" Eliot also makes a statement about marriage. Dorothea and Lydgate's problems stem almost entirely from bad marriages. They each go into their own marriages with distinct impressions of how married life will be and both are very disappointed when the reality of the situation becomes obvious.

"Middlemarch" is one of those novels that it is difficult to explain why one likes it. The plot is predictable, the characters are unexceptional, and the time period isn't particularly interesting. However, Eliot has constructed a masterpiece with this novel that few have matched. Perhaps the genius of George Eliot is that she could do so much with so little.

There are several wonderful, astute customer comments below so I will just add one thing. In addition to being an astonishingly well-crafted portrait of society, of marriage, of individual dreams and disappointments, I believe that Eliot wrote Middlemarch as a mirror for the reader to examine his or her own life--somewhere in this vast novel, if we are honest, we can all find someone like ourselves--and to realize that each choice we make, each of our relationships, provides us with the opportunity to affect the lives of those around us in either positive or negative ways. So often readers hold books at arms' length; it is easy to pass judgment on others, whether on characters in a book, or on our neighbors. Few books combine brilliant story-telling with profound moral value. Middlemarch is one such book. Do not hesitate to read it!

Romola is constantly called Eliot's weakest novel, with even serious critics reluctant to praise it. However, it was seen in the 19th century as Eliot's masterpiece. Some of the blame for the novel going out of fashion must rest with F.R. Leavis who said that "few will want to read Romola a second time, and few can ever have got through it once without some groans." If Leavis, viewed as one of the great literary minds, thinks this, then more average readers like us are bound to be put off.

True, the start of Romola is bogged down in detail, but it is introduced by a wonderful, stirring and majestic 'Proem' which sees the Angel of the Dawn sweeping across the Earth and loftily states how humanity is the same now as it was when Romola is set. After this, the notes are best ignored - consult them separately, and concentrate on getting into the book. It is a stirring and sometimes hard read, and moves one with awe at what Eliot has created - you really feel you are experiencing Florence in the 15th century. There is one scene that stands out for me - the haunting and almost surreal episode where Romola drifts by boat to an apparent coastal haven. Images of peace and life are reversed disturbingly.

So ignore Leavis and the dissenters. If you've read another Eliot, you'll like it. If you haven't, maybe start with something else, but come back, for it's a rewarding read

Given the majority of Eliot readers begin with Middlemarch, I found myself in the unique position of not only beginning with Romola, but also on a subject that I find most interesting. That of Renaissance Italy. Beginning at the death of the great Lorenzo di Medici in '92 I read this great novel twice. Once quickly as any other Twenty-First century paperback; the second, slowly, with more respect for the intellectual scope within the pages.
After the first attempt I was mildly disappointed. I came away with no true sense of the whole that is fifteenth century Florence and a bewilderment at the inconsistent central characterisation of Tito Melema and his golden-haired wife, Romola. The supporting actors were brilliant, from Fra Girolama's fantatical Catholicism to Bratti's salesmanship. But I was left disappointed, believing in the superficality of Tito, the maddening naivety of Tessa, and the almost puritanical martyrdom of Romola.
So I re-read it. Slowly.
It is now extremely clear why this great work of english literature is, as Eliot herself puts it, a "book of mine which I more thoroughly feel that I swear by every sentence as having been written with my best blood".
Each scene is mesmerically depicted, the infintesimal attention to details and Eliot's total control of her subject matter shines through.
Renaissance Florence wasn't so well depicted by its contemporaries.
From Tito's waking at the Loggia de' Cerchi to his final fall at the Ponte Vecchio his character moves through a full range as you would expect from a man in his early twenties. His child-like mesmerism coupled with his Greek tutorage gives rise to a cherubic man whom Florence loves. His fatal flaw is his desire for love and a single terrible lie he gives that, like Murphy's Law, evolves into a a stigma that alters his very persona. What is all the more damaging is that you truly believe he is unaware of the pain he causes. He is truly egocentric, in an almost blameless way. For Romola, you cold argue the opposite. Indeed she is potentially more culpable. Her fierce intellectualism is offset by a descent into a world of religious supersition, a world where religion is used as a political tool. Throughout she has the knowledge of where her actions will take her and a terrible sense of duty and restrains her. From the beginning, with the story we hear so often of Tito's escape from drowning, to his final near drowning at the hands of the mob, to his strangulation by his father there is a certain bitter justice until all that he leaves is his proud and world-scarred wife Romola and the innocence that he preserved with Tessa. Tito's move from innocent 'hero' to startled villain is an excerise in human failings. Yet it is not a sufficient single human tragedy, as Eliot says, "Florence was busy with greater affairs, and the preparation of a deeper tragedy".
In many respects 'Romola' is Eliot's King Lear. The parallels are many, including Baldessare's depiction. There is no Edgar, nor Edmund but the Fool is here in many guises. In taking one of Shakespeare's finest themes, Eliot has given true life to fifteenth century Florence and it is, perhaps, best encapsulated by Romola's final statement to Tessa's son, Lillo:
"There was a man to whom I was very near... who made almost everyone fond of him, for he ws young, and clever, and beautiful...I believe, when I first knew him, he never thought of anything cruel or base. But because he tried to slip away from everything that was unpleasant, and cared for nothing else so much as his own safety, he came at last to commit some of the basest deeds - such as make men infamous."
So, Eliot's 'Romola'. Read it, delight in it because it truly is, as the author can rightly claim, one of the finest works in english literature.

Yes, it bristles with Glossaries and Appendices and Notes like so much barbed wire. (And if you actually read the Penguin editor's introduction, it's a sure thing you'll never read the novel: she makes it sound like about as much fun as chewing rocks.) But don't let all that deter you. You may have some rough going at the beginning, mostly because Latin and Greek scholarship is so important to the plot. Use the notes and they'll enhance your enjoyment of the story, but ignore them and you're still in for a thrilling tale gorgeously told. Tito Melema is one of the great characters in fiction, and he's someone we all know: a thoroughly despicable human being who has no idea he's anything but a nice guy. Eliot has wrought a dreamy and hair-raising hybrid of fiction and history, infused with her own astonishing insight and complicated sympathy and delivered in her matchless prose. I loved this book.

T.S. Eliot is known as one of the world's foremost poets and playwrights, but this book shows him as a brilliant essayist, philosopher, and theologian as well. This book consists of two essays: "The Idea of a Christian Society" and "Notes Toward the Definition of Culture." In these two essays, Eliot displays his mental prowess by cutting to the heart of the issues of culture in general in the second essay and specifically Christian culture in the first. His analysis of these subjects is very orderly, well-thought, and deeper than most any written today, even by sociologists and the like who make a career of studying these things. Eliot breaks culture down into three subclasses: individual, group/class, and whole society. He begins with the individual level of society, analyzing personality characteristics and the like, and moves his way up into group/class and then to the whole society, giving an extremely thoughtful and insightful argument into how these elements relate. Although this book was written over 50 years ago and isn't the most conventional look at these subjects, many of the things Eliot asserts are becoming obvious in today's society, proving him as not only a great writer but also as an accomplished thinker. He goes into great detail on class, geographic regions, sects, politics, religion, and education in relation to culture and society. While the writing is a bit more verbose and difficult than the average modern reader is used to, it is extremely logical; Eliot carefully builds each argument one step at a time. This order makes it possible to gain a great deal of understanding if the reader is willing to wade through the text and ponder what is written. I guarantee that even though many readers won't necessarily understand initially or perhaps agree with everything Eliot asserts in this book, anyone who reads it will end up with a far greater understanding of the workings of society. I recommend this book to anyone who is willing to be stretched in an intellectual way and anyone who seeks to gain a great insight into culture at its various levels and as a whole.

I bought this book unsure of how 'enlightened' it would be. To my surprise and delight I have found the book alarmingly courageous and specific in its ideas of the Christian person within a secular society. His writing is profoundly moving and expressive, but then again, he is one of the greatest modern poets. I literally had to refrain myself from highlighting every other line of this book, it is that original. I felt as though I were reading a classic novel instead of a book on cultural ideas. A life-changing book to be sure!

This book is as clear an exposition as one can get on the vital importance of not only Christianity and Culture but on the interconnectedness of the two. Particularly in that one can virtually have no culture without Christianity. Additionally, it clearly delineates the overwhelming superiority of Western Christian Civilization and Culture and the inferior and illegitimate nature of foreign cultures and religions.

With crisp,easy-to-see pictures,lyrics and costume sketches,
this book captures CATs purr-fectly!I enjoyed having the lyrics printed out so I can sing along with the video and CD!
If you're a CATS fan,you must have this book!

My child is a huge fan of the musical CATS and I bought this book for him so he could have pictures of all of his favorite characters. He loves this book and I found it definitely worth the price! The pictures are beautifully done, the colors are vibrant and it's a great companion to the CATS video that we already own. I definitely reccomend this for CATS fans!

Well There's Not much to it...
Some info about T. S. Eliot, Andrew Lloyd Webber and Others
Lyrics from the Songs which i like
And Pictures of the Original Broadway Cast
A bit pricey for just that...
Still A Good Book...

T. S. Eliot's second play is loosely based on Aeschylus' "Eumenides," though set in modern times. The integration of classical elements is only partly successful: the Greek chorus of meddlesome relatives is oddly effective, but the several appearances of the Furies are forced and strange (as Eliot himself came to conclude). Furthermore, the play is awfully talky -- lots of setup without much payoff in dramatic action.

But what talk it is! "The Family Reunion" was written in the interregnum between the first and second of "Four Quartets," and the play develops and amplifies many of the same themes as the poems. We return to the "Alice in Wonderland" rose garden of "Burnt Norton" (the first Quartet) -- "I only looked through the little door / When the sun was shining on the rose-garden: / And heard in the distance tiny voices" -- while looking forward to key passages from later poems: "Or the distant waterfall in the forest, / Inaccessible, half-heard. / And I hear your voice as in the silence / Between two storms ...."

Though "The Family Reunion" may be justly criticized for its dramatic problems and weak conclusion, the writing is vintage Eliot and will prove both enjoyable and enlightening for devotees of his poetry.

T. S. Eliot masters the craft of play-writing, and his verse adds to this powerful and imaginative tragedy. He manages to keep his many characters separate and portray every one of them with acute individuality. Reading this book leaves the reader without any doubts as to why Eliot was awarded the Nobel Prize.

It is a small book but lovable, with memorable characters in Macavity, who is a criminal cat but always gets away, or old Deuteronomy, who sleeps all the time in the middle of sidewalks and upon whom the working world has to rearrange itself so as not to disturb him, or Jennanydots, who teaches mice how to play music.

What makes the book so good is the humour and the occasional high brow vocabulary which forces children to pick up the dictionary for once.

This is a funny, interesting poem book. I got it right after I saw Cats the play.

I suggest you get this book.

The Malsbary translation may be the problem to this otherwise respected work. His syntatical structures, often omitting verbs, makes for difficult reading. Maybe it just German philosophical writing, which tends to the obtruse.

The exposition is not clear. Many passages have to be re-read for comprehension. The message does not flow, but spurts and starts in a jarring manner.

Pieper has many salient points to make, all of which should be used in dialogue with Veblen's "Theory of the Leisure Class." It's not that they are the same wavelength, but the differences are telling all the same.

This isn't a book I'd buy (but I did), but get through a library. It's not a book florid with gems of wisdom.

Pieper begins with a common (and ironically ancient) human insight that people today have lost touch with their inner, spiritual lives, and something must be done before we become soulless drones. His solution is leisure, that contemplative and calm state that produces joy in the greatness of a full life. The highest expression of this leisure is the religious festival. I won't divulge any more of Pieper's philosophy; it is much better understood and appreciated by reading his well-written text. Sometimes Pieper soars and takes the reader with him into the loftiest reaches of man's soul and intellect, other times it seems like nothing more than the intellectual masturbation of a prentious, old-school European academic. Still, it is beautifully and succinctly written, which is very refreshing, and you could easily read it in a week. Especially recommended for the Catholic intellectual.

The excellent Malsbury translation of Pieper's famous work brings together many of the themes found in other works of the author. For instance, leisure or stillness, is not to be thought of as leisure in the contemporary sense. Leisure is to be thought of in a framework of an teleology which is a contemplation of ends, or last things. Since man is made for union with God, human work is not seperate from this end. Today, the work of man is an end in itself, and philsophical anthropology and culture suffers. Pieper shows how this is a reorientation from the classical and scholastic world view which shared a common vision of anthropology as man seeking those things which are above. This book is a must read for all those who think modern culture is suffering from an identity crisis.

I found this book to be a useful compendium of essays that are usually scattered or incompletely represented in anthologies. It's an excellent supplement for a course on Eliot's work or to learn more about his critical perspectives and how they shifted over time. Very worthwhile.

A good selection of prose from T. S. Eliot. After years of reading, I still find his prose more effective and more useful than his poetry. (I know -- sheer heresy.) Eliot places great emphasis on The Tradition and on an impersonal approach to art, an emphasis which aspiring writers of today would be wise to heed. Like Matthew Arnold, Eliot's criticism is dogmatic, and right. The reader's only wish is that this collection included more.

Eliot's reputation has taken a beating in the last 20 years. He has been charged with anti-semitism, racism, elitism, and even misogyny. All of these charges are basically true. Nevertheless, as a critic his judgements are sound and dead-on. Read either "Traditon and the individual Talent" or "Dante" from this book and tell me if you think I am wrong. The book is worth the price for these two essays alone.