Percy himself was never terribly anxious to talk about himself, so it was a joy to read Tolson's well-researched account after devouring all of Percy's books. Where Percy has left only hints, Tolson delves more deeply to uncover Percy's troubled childhood which was redeemed in his teenage years by his Uncle Will, author of Lanterns on the Levee. If you read Walker Percy, you undoubtedly find you want to know more and more about the enigmatic genius. Tolson's biography of him fills in a lot of gaps.

I was quite pleased when this biography came out because I had been a fan of Dr. Percy for many years. I'd read through his fiction and nonfiction several times, including various interviews, literary criticism, and minutiae -- in short, anything connected with Percy. Had I pursued that course, I very likely would have written a dissertation on Percy.

So I was even happier to discover that Mr. Tolson did a fine job with his subject. He examines the books in the context of Percy's life and in a way that is friendly without becoming overly academic. Percy was a private man who didn't have much use for biographies or biographers. Fortunately, Tolson respected his wishes by neither prying too much nor engaging in the sort of amateur psychologizing which is all too common in modern pathography. He proves a sensitive reader and biographer.

Having said that, there's a strain in Percy's life and work that most biographers and critics have missed. They correctly indicate the significance of alcohol and suicide in the illustrious Percy lineage. But they examine that significance only in a metaphysical way rather than a physical (biological) way, that is, in a psychological way rather than a psychiatric way. Why did Dr. Percy never seek psychotherapy or some kind of medical treatment for his clinical depression? What sorts of things might have interfered with that search?

I found Pilgrim in the Ruins to be an enjoyable look at Dr. Percy and his work. It is well-grounded in southern history, Percy's family history, the works themselves and how they fit into the larger currents of American literature. Even the reader who is a stranger to Percy will find much to appreciate here.

This book is one of the finest I have ever read. I don't say that lightly; I have read my share of books and devoured anything written by or about Percy.

Tolson is worthy of the novelist whose life he portrays. He writes beautifully and takes the reader through the many periods of Percy's life. The biography is particulalry strong with the formative influences that shaped the novelist's life and world view-- the suicides, the depressions, both the "Old" and "New" South, his Uncle Will, Shelby Foote, modern America, religion, race, etc.

The book impacted me more than any other I have read, and I would not be the same person today without it. There can be no finer praise for a work; 5 stars seems so insufficient.

How fortunate we are Percy had Tolson as a biographer.

It's probably time for a new Shelley biography, despite Holmes' excellent work. I couldn't recommend this book without a number of caveats.

It was valuable in its time, for countering that Victorian view of the angelic depoliticised and emasculated Shelley. But it's still a document of its time.

There are two things that were wrong with the book even at the time it was written. One is the constant failure to mention instances of Shelley's extraordinary generosity and kindness to others. Maybe it was boring, to a 1970s writer, to mention the old women carried in out of the cold, the children fed, the money given away to strangers in hard times: but to leave most of it out badly distorts the reality of Shelley. He was no saint, but he was a remarkably kind person, and practical with it, and that central and salient characteristic is glossed over, though "gloss" is not quite the word. White's earlier biography is actually more comprehensive on this sort of thing.

The second issue is a grotesque mis-reading of the "Adelaide Shelley" affair, in which Shelley put his name down as the father of an Italian baby. Holmes invents from whole cloth an incident in which Shelley seduced the maid, turning her out of the house when she became pregnant. This is simply bizarre, as Holmes himself later acknowledged. In his next book, "Footsteps", Holmes concedes that not only was there no evidence in favour of this claim, but that it would have been completely out of character for all three of the key figures (Shelley, Claire Clairemont and the maid whose name, from memory, is something like Paola Foggi) who would have had to have been involved in Holmes' scenario.

The story, acknowledged by Holmes to be false, did Shelley's reputation enormous harm (Paul Johnson siezed on it, and added inaccuracies of his own, for his attack on Shelley in the ludicrous "Intellectuals" book; Johnson's Shelley chapter is virtually a cut and paste job from Holmes).

So this has always frustrated me: Why on earth hasn't Holmes corrected it in a later edition? I suspect that Holmes feels that it is a form of integrity, of trueness to himself as a young man, or something, to leave the book in its current form. But since the book is supposed to be a record about Shelley, not Holmes, I'd rather he made this and other corrections.

As well as that, there's new information about the circumstances of Shelley's break with his family, and about his life in Italy, which Holmes doesn't include, because they are based on documents that have only recently come to light or been studied.

So while this was a landmark in its time, it is from this distance not as good as some earlier biographies, and it is due for replacement. If I were to recommend a biographical work to someone with a strong interest in Shelley, I'd recommend his Letters.

Laon (no relation)

How is it possible that the world's largest online bookstore doesn't stock any biography of Shelley? He was, after all, not just a poet, but a fascinating character even without taking his literary accomplishments into account. I found Mr. Holmes's great biography in an Oxford, UK bookstore. And I must say it's amazing. I can't believe it was written by a 28-year-old. The research done here is nothing short of astounding. I must say, however, that the long pages devoted to Shelley's political creed and activities can get a bit wearisome - at least for me, who was more interested in the personal and literary aspects of his life, than in the political ones - but then, I understand that this reflects my personal preferences, and admit it doesn't much deter from the book's qualities. In fact, you could say it makes it more solid and thorough, in including a part of Shelley's life that has been traditionally neglected by his biographers.

A nice feature of Mr. Holmes's work is the description of the physical places in Shelley's life - for instance, the house where he was born and the ones which he inhabited during his years in Italy. All of these had some endearing and fascinating trait, from the rolling lawns of Field Place to the sun-soaked terrace of the Casa Magni. I only wish these descriptions had been more in-depth, since it is obvious that Shelley often built strong emotional connections with the places where he lived. I look forward to reading "Footsteps", which is the account of Holmes's literary travels and research, and which is already awaiting me in my bookshelf!

As a Shelley lover I've read numerous biographies, but this will be the last one as no amount of research or writing talent can improve on this book. Richard Holmes clearly did an enormous amount of research and his attention to detail is extraordinary. His love for his subject comes through strongly yet he remains objective throughout and is not blind to Shelley's flaws. His descriptive writing also paints a fascinating picture of the interesting and tough times during which Shelley lived and his wonderful vocabulary had me reaching for my dictionary many times!. He pays as much attention to the other colourful characters in Shelley's life as he does to the poet himself. His analysis of Shelley's complex psyche is intense and I believe his perceptions are very accurate. This book impressed and excited me more than any biography I have ever read.

This is not the place to start, if you haven't read Percy before. When read fresh, much of this collection of essays comes across as rambling, with the themes of "Southerner," "Catholic," "Author," "Southern Catholic Author," and "Fan o' Kierkegaard & Dostoevsky" running incessantly throughout the volume.

However, Percy's engaging wit keeps the essays entertaining, and it is interesting to watch his fixations and how they change (or don't change) over time.

Of particular value is the discourse on semiotics, which is a nice primer to the uninitiated, but doesn't help one make heads or tails of Umberto Eco.

Still, I would recommend reading Percy's fiction before tackling this collection.

This book is perfect as either an introduction to Walker Percy's thought or as a final collection of essays for the longtime fan. "Signposts" is the only book available that provides Percy's writing from virtually every stage of his life, including the period when he was completely unknown. That fact alone makes it worth the purchase.

Though better known as a novelist, Walker Percy began his writing career with non-fiction pieces of a philosophical bent. He remains one of the most philosophical novelists of the late 20th century, and his first novel, The Moviegoer, is widely acknowledged as one of the masterpieces of contemporary literature. This collection covers Percy's major interests over the span of his career: the literally miraculous ability of humans to communicate with language, the unique qualities of Southern writing (and why, for instance, there are no great Los Angeles novelists or Zen Buddhist novelists), and the curious fact that late-twentieth century western man is bored, weary, and sad, despite living in the most affluent period in human history.

Like C. S. Lewis, Percy became a Christian after spending his young adult years as a confirmed atheist. For this reason, he is particularly adept at addressing the intellectual impediments to belief. His work is the perfect antidote to those who think that smart people don't believe in God. He was also a scientist, having been trained as a medical doctor. Science, he believed, has discovered how the universe works but has been unable to address the most important fact of our existence: that each of us is a self-aware human being who will one day die. Percy was profoundly influenced by Kierkegaard and thus has been called a Christian existentialist, though he finds the term has become meaningless through overuse.

This is a fascinating overview of Percy's ideas. As a bonus, the book concludes with a whimsical self-interview that lets us see what a delightful man he would have been to know. Highly recommended, along with his Lost in the Cosmos, which further develops many of the ideas here in the mock format of a self-help book.

Lord Berners' Collected Tales and Fantasies are six rather bizarre tales or short novellas, filled with dark and mysterious happenings. The characters who inhabit these stories are equally as bizarre and eccentric as the tales themselves, and, although they contain some hilarious satire in the style of Evelyn Waugh or "Saki," the narratives are laced with violence and tragedy. Lord Berners' characters include an assortment of eccentric artistocratic types that he knew between the years dividing the two World Wars. His characters include a mixture of neurotics, paranoids, megalomaniacs, pederasts, parasites, and what Monty Python would call "upper-class twits," all of whom partake in the most amazing adventures. In one of the best stories, "Far from the Madding War," the author himself makes a brief appearance as Lord FritzCricket. Berners admits that his own outlandish personality is that of "the Unstable Peer," an eccentric born into the aristocracy who can act in any way he pleases. Let us look briefly at a few of the stories. "Percy Wallingford," (written in 1914) tells the adventures of a self-assured and talented man who, on the eve of World War I, has his confidence destroyed by his wife, a fantastic woman who can see in the dark and who strips him of his self-assurance. "The Camel," (written in 1936) relates the mysterious appearance of a camel at a vicarage in the quiet British town of Slumbermere, which violently disrupts the easy life there and forces people to confront their own fears, anxieties, and jealousies. It is a deceptively dark and disturbing tale, perhaps influenced by the novels of Thomas Hardy and Anthony Trollope which also dealt with small-town British rustic life. "Mr. Pidger," (1939) takes place on the eve of World War II and is, in reality, a British country-house farce in the best tradition. Lord Berens takes the models of the genre - a dog-hating misanthrope, a missing will, an ill-tempered dog, an over bearing wife, and a reticent husband - and molds them into a bizarre burlesque with tragic overtones. "Count Omega" (1941) is a satire on reincarnation, Freudian sexual psychoanalysis, modern music, and practical jokes, which involves the ego-centered musician Emanuel Smith, maliciously modeled on the British composer Sir William Walton. "The Romance of a Nose" (1941) may be the weakest tale of the collection, a rather plodding story about a Queen with an enormous nose and the chicanery that takes place in international politics. Berners' final story in the collection, "Far From the Madding War" (1941) is in itself worth the price of the book. It is an outrageous reaction to World War II, peopled with whimsical neurotics and eccentrics in the university town of "All Saints." It is Lord Berners' satirical attack on Oxford and Cambridge Universities' reaction to the war, and an intimation of his own nervous breakdown during and after the war years when his private world was shattered. It is a hilarious yet disturbing story. I highly recommend these six stories to those Anglophile readers like myself who enjoy the works of such writers as Evelyn Waugh, "Saki," J.P. Donlevy, George MacDonald Fraser, or John Mortimer. Lord Berners is indeed a talented author who writes stylishly and with a sharp satiric thrust. I have enjoyed his music (now recorded on several CD's) and his excellent memoir, "The Château de Résenlieu," which was recently published. I hope that more of his fine literary work will be published.

I've loved Lord Berners' music for years. And I knew he was an eccentric. But these pieces knocked me out. Wry, ironic, hilarious, skewed, but also humane. He's someone I wish I'd had dinner with; I suspect it would have been a memorable encounter.

This book provides detailed information on almost every aspect of school finance.Updated charts and easy to follow chapters outline budget, business, accounting, state, and federal programs in both public and private schools.

This newest edition remains a popular book in educational finance courses in Texas and elsewhere. Information has been updated to reflect new legislation and current trends. The book has evolved well over the years, and this latest update does an excellent job of introducing EDAD majors and others to the complex world of school finance.

Frankly, I'm more impressed with Bertrand Russell's _Why I am not a Christian_ than with this book...Shelley's writing is couched in such period rhetoric (early 19th century / late 18th century style) as to be rather clumsy and turgid for the modern reader, and the assumtions and argumentation rely on premises that are often faulty or no longer seem valid in the contemporary world.

All that having been said, the short essay "On Life" was most impressive indeed and in many ways seems a foreshadowing of Postmodernism. Very startling to see that Urquelle in a text like this.

This book looks great on a bookshelf, but is a little dissapointing in the actual reading of it, save for "On Life". The title essay is especially disappointing. Oh well...

This book is an excellent introduction to Shelley's existencial thought, containing some impressing essays such as "The necessity of atheism" and "On Life". It also helps the reader to understand the marvellous personal "animus" that hiddened beneath Shelley's great poems.

Percy Blandford writes on a lot of shop craft topics and has clearly thought about them a lot. He writes well. This is a general introduction to metalwork primarily from a smithing perspective...that is, carbon steel work. It touches on other areas but really isn't suitable to the beginning welder, sheetmetal worker, or tool and die hobbiest. It would be best for the person who wants to make historic replica items from a forge who one who wishes to supplement historical replica woodworking with some basic metal work in brass or iron/steel.

As a beginner blacksmith with a professional engineering background I bought previously Alexander G Weygers: "The Complete Modern Blacksmith" largely because it had many "excellent" reviews. However, Blandford wins on most points. I have found Blandford very helpful on specific details, on leading me through principles and methods, with much clearer illustations properly referenced in the text, and with a wider scope of nedded information. In contrast Blandford has much better information on welding, and detail on forges and on aprons and is far better indexed. I have learned a lot from both books, but if I had to choose one it would be Blandford.

Walker Percy's "Moviegoer" is Percy's first novel and one for which he won the National Book award. I just reread this novel for the second time hoping to gain a greater understanding of it. Like other reviewers have pointed out, Percy's work tends to be heavily weighted with philosophical or psychological overtones. (Not being well-read or trained in such areas I found no such theme to comment on.) One Percy scholar even said that the philosophical foundations for this novel were laid in Percy's essay "The Man on the Train: Three Existential Modes". A train is obviously prominent in "The Moviegoer". But regarding existentialism I haven't a clue what that means so I don't know if you will find any such themes in the novel.

Other reviewers have already laid out the plot of "The Moviegoer" for you. Binx Bolling idles through life on some kind of search the target of which is never made clear. As he happens along he notices malaise all about him and despair. Binx himself is in a kind of funk and the character Kate suffers a more serious depression. A quote from Kierkegaard in the front of the book signals the importance of this theme: "...the specific character of despair is precisely this: it is unaware of being despair."

When he is not selling stocks, Binx spends his time in pursuit of female company. Binx says: "For some years now I have had no friends. I spend my entire time working, making money, going to movies, and seeking the company of women."

The most lyrical sections of the novel are where Percy describes the various targets of Binx Bolling's lust: "She is a strapping girl but by no means too big, done up head to toe in cellophane, the hood pushed back to show a helmet of glossy black hair. She is magnificent with her split tooth and her Price Val bangs split on her forehead." One's heart flutters as the girl gets off the city bus and is forever gone out Bink Bolling's life.

Walker Percy's friend and mentor Shelby Foote (they went to school together at UNC) thought that "The Moviegoer" had one fault and that "it's so big you can't do anything about it". Writing in a letter to his friend he wrote: "The last third gets so caught up in the story ... that it changes in tone as well. For one thing your hero is no longer a moviegoer." I am inclined to agree. Early in the novel Percy sends Binx into the movie theater to show him as someone who is a loner. He even spies a movie star on the street of New Orleans, where the novel is set. But in the end the Moviegoer only sees one film and that is with a female companion. Perhaps the title "The Moviegoer" makes that idea too prominent. In "The Correspondence of Shelby Foote and Walker Percy" Percy discusses other titles that the novel might have had including "Carnival in Gentilly".

Perhaps the most dramatic part of the novel is the dressing down that Binx gets from his Aunt Emily after he and Kate have gone away together. Binx has clearly misbehaved badly. He offers an apology but he doesn't seem to understand that he has done anything wrong.

I enjoyed as well the descriptions of life in and around New Orleans: picking crabs, eating crawfish, and fishing for red fish (channel bass).

Walker Percy was forty-six years old when his first published novel, "The Moviegoer", was awarded the National Book Award in 1962. It was, in some sense, the public beginning of the second half of Percy's life for, as Percy himself wrote in 1972: "Life is much stranger than art-and often more geometrical. My life breaks exactly in half: 1st half=growing up Southern and medical; 2nd half=imposing art on 1st half." But what, exactly, did Percy mean when he said this? In some sense, "The Moviegoer" is the beginning of an answer.

Percy was born in 1915 and lived his early life in Birmingham, Alabama. His grandfather committed suicide when Walker was an infant and his father, too, committed suicide in 1929. Following his father's suicide, his mother moved Walker and his two brothers to Mississippi. Percy's family was one of the oldest families in the South and he and his brothers soon found a father figure in the form of his cousin, William Alexander Percy, known affectionately as Uncle Will. Three years after his father's suicide, Percy's life was again marked by tragedy when his mother's car went off a bridge, killing her and leaving Walker and his brothers in the charge of his Uncle Will.

Percy went to medical school at Columbia University, where he contracted tuberculosis during his internship. In and out of sanitariums for several years, he finally returned to the South in his early 30s, getting married in 1946 and settling in the New Orleans area, where he lived the remainder of his life. It was at this time that Percy received an inheritance from his Uncle Will that allowed him to devote himself completely to his long-standing interest in literature and philosophy.

I relate the biographical details because, as you read "The Moviegoer", it seems (not surprisingly) heavily marked by Percy's life experience, the author's biography being one point of reference for the novel.

"The Moviegoer" is a peculiarly American and belated expression of the existential novel that had been so brilliantly articulated in France by Albert Camus. Like "The Stranger", Percy's novel focuses on meaning-in this case, the obsession of Binx Bolling, the novel's narrator, on what he calls the "search". As Bolling says at one point, "the search is what anyone would undertake if he were not sunk in the everydayness of his own life." And exactly what does this mean? "To become aware of the possibility of the search is to be onto something. Not to be onto something is to be in despair." An enigmatic definition, but one which makes the reader who spends time with "The Moviegoer", who reads the book carefully and reflectively, to think more deeply about his or her own life.

"The Moviegoer" is not a novel dominated by plot. At a superficial level, the novel relates, in a wry and matter-of-fact way, a few days in the seemingly unremarkable life of Bolling, a New Orleans stockbroker whose main activities are going to the movies and carrying on with each of his successive secretaries. "Once I thought of going into law or medicine or even pure science. I even dreamed of doing something great. But there is much to be said for giving up such grand ambitions and living the most ordinary life imaginable, a life without the old longings; selling stocks and bonds and mutual funds; quitting work at five o'clock like everyone else; having a girl and perhaps one day settling down and raising a flock of Marcias and Sandras and Lindas of my own."

What "The Moviegoer" suggests is resonant of Thoreau's contention that most men lead lives of quiet desperation. But it is a desperation that arises not from the ordinariness of everyday lives, but, rather, from the failure to transform that ordinariness through contemplation and self-reflection, through an appreciation for the mundane. Thus, in the book's epigraph, Percy quotes Kierkegaard: "the specific character of despair is precisely this: it is unaware of being despair." As Percy has suggested in another of his books, "Lost in the Cosmos" (a work of non-fiction subtitled "The Last Self-Help Book"), we inhabit a society of alienated and despairing "non-suicides" who Percy wanted to transform, through his writing, into "ex-suicides". In Binx Bolling's words: "For some time now the impression has been growing upon me that everyone is dead. It happens when I speak to people. In the middle of the sentence it will come over me: yes, beyond a doubt this is death . . . At times it seems that the conversation is spoken by automatons who have no choice in what they say."

"The Moviegoer" is a thoughtful and a thought-provoking book that should be read and then re-read, slowly and carefully, for every paragraph is laden with insight into the character of its narrator, the character of its author and, ultimately, the character of ourselves.

Last June (under a year ago), I read this novel for the first time. I just finished reading it for the fifth time. I have never read a novel with which I related more. It is truly brilliant and truly beautiful. I've always been a big reader, and so, I have always had trouble choosing my favorite novel. That is, until I read The Moviegoer.

The novel is about the character of Binx Bolling, a businessman living in New Orleans. A week before his thirtieth birthday, Binx becomes aware of the Search, his existential quest for meaning and happiness amidst the chaos and peculiar unreality of the world. Binx is joined on his Search by Kate, with whom he shares a complex and somewhat sweet relationship.

Percy's invocation of postmodern humanity's despair is so striking and powerful. I know that it is a feeling which everyone has felt as some point, but The Moviegoer isn't just about the alienation and sadness of man; Percy offers hope as Binx achieves redemption. His leap to love, his embrace of the "mundane" world and of humanity (and God), is subtle and profound. It is impossible to express the greatness of this powerful, beautiful novel, and I don't know how to convey how much this novel means to me. I can only recommend Walker Percy's wonderful novel.

I recently read the novel Wuthering Heights, by Emily Bronte. As a student, I would not recommend this book to other readers. Unless falling asleep after every chapter of a book classifies it as good, Wuthering Heights is only good as a bedtime story. In the novel, it is said that Heathcliff and Catherine are in love, if this is so they wouldn't have spent their times together trying to hurt one another for pleasure. Heathcliff would have not wished that Catherine not rest in piece because she didn't mention him in her last breaths of air before dying (even though she was unconscious). This relationship that the author portrays as love, really is not love. It is more of a hate than anything. Another thing about this novel in which, I did not quite enjoy was its exaggeration in descriptions of everything. It is great to describe things well enough for the reader to create an image on what is happening in the story, in their mind, but don't push it overboard. For example, Liam O'Flaherty an author of short stories and novels uses great descriptions in his works. In his stories, he was able to create a mental image of the story in reader's imaginations, without letting the story get boring, and without over doing it. The thing is in Wuthering Heights, Bronte explained things out far too well and made the story less interesting. So coming from a student, I would not recommend this book to another student.

"It is as if Emily Bronte could tear up all that we know human beings by, and fill these unrecognizable transparencies with such a gust of life that they transcend reality." -Virginia Woolf

Damn straight, sister! I gotta tell you, read this book in the *summer time*. Do not, I repeat, DO NOT, read this in the gloom of winter, as I stupidly did.

The epic story of Catherine and Heathcliff plays out against the dramatic backdrop of the wild English moors, and presents an astonishing vision of fate and obsession, passion and REVENGE.

This classic book is a bummer. Not that it's bad writing, but my oh my.. it makes you so sad! Your heart just goes out for Heathcliff and the depression he faces. But also, the um... "inter-breeding" (*blush*) is quite disturbing!! One cousin marries one other cousin and they have kids who marry their other cousins, I was just surprised that the whole lot of them weren't, "messed up".

I really wouldn't recommend this book for happy people. If you want some romance and a historical novel, read "Gone with the Wind". My favorite.

I don't like romance novels, or movies or television shows. Such is the curse of the lion share of my sex, despite our gradual feminization in the modern era.

I'm glad I overcame my aversion to read this excellent portrayal of eros defiled. Heathcliff is the focus, fulcrum and prime mover in this story. He is dragged of the streets and taken in by a wealthy gentleman from the provinces. This man showers great affection on the young street urchin and demands equal treatment from his two natural born children.

The eldest, a son, resents this upstart, so when the father dies, he relegates poor Heathcliff to the status of neglected servant. Catherine, the younger, has become a close friend of Heathcliff and follows him into the relatively untethered but savage life of the servants' children. Growing up unsupervised they develop the manners of the low born, and but develop a strong bond of love that transcends the facile distinctions of filial versus romantic.

Alas, when Catherine comes of age, the duties of her birth beckon and she is taken from Heathcliff and marries someone of higher station.

It is this love, never fulfilled, that sours in Heathcliff makes him a despicable tyrant.

This is the dark side of romance, and Romance as viewed from the man's vantage point.

Worth reading.

I have long been a fan of Walker Percy's essays and his novel The Moviegoer, a novel that will always resonate with me as someone who grew up in the South. Yet The Last Gentleman, to me, was something of a disappointment. Will Barrett is a thinly drawn character, a product of Percy's fascination with amnesia as a critical path toward waking up to life itself. Walker is fascinated with amnesia and other shocks as a device to draw attention to the complacent familiarity of the everyday, as observed by someone who has just awakened to the ongoing scene, a kind of latter day Rip Van Winkle.

But in this novel, this gets a little tedious. Instead of showing us the strangeness of the everyday, Percy has Barrett tell us that it is strange, or employs the device of having the failed physician, Sutter, do the telling in a journal of sorts.

One thing really puzzles me about Percy's entire work: his curious inability to render black people interesting or meaningful. He was writing about the South of the late 1950s and the 1960s but his African-American characters are cartoons about a captive people. I think this is a tip-off to one of Percy's blind spots masquerading as a philosophical stance. He wants us to accept that our struggle toward meaning and our existential "lostness" is far more fundamental and urgent than our inhumanity toward our fellow beings. This is a serious distortion of the existentialist position and it's made worse by Percy's refusal to offer complex, interesting and thick characerizations of black people in a South that was exploding.

One of the reasons for our lostness is that the very familiarity of the ordinary and everyday spins an amnesiac spell over us all toward the brutal inhumanities and indignities occurring right under our noses. We have all become lost and complicit in our lostness, not just to our true self and its existential predicament but also to our essential humanity.

I recently read The Moviegoer by Percy, and I would definately rate it as my favorite novel. I was really excited to pick of The Last Gentleman as my second Percy novel, and though I would not rate it as highly as The Moviegoer, it was far from a disappointment. It is certainly a book that I will cherish among my very favorites.

The primary character of the novel is Bill Barrett (who is more often called the engineer). The engineer suffers from amnesia and periods of deja vu, and he reads about a near-apocolyptic catostrophe and wonders if it has already happened. He is the lost (dead) American. One day, looking through his telescope, he sees a girl, and the result is that he becomes involved with her family the Vaughts. The relationship with them ends up sending him on a journey through the South and on to New Mexico, a journey in which he gains a type of salvation.

One of Percy's primary beliefs about novel writing was that it should be entertaining, and The Last Gentleman succeeds. It is at times hilarious and is often moving. It is true that there are periods where it drags a little, but the truths Percy presents more than make up for those sections. The Last Gentleman is a supremely beautiful, entertaining, and thoughtful novel.

Marooned in New York City, displaced Southerner Will Barrett finds himself utterly abstracted from his world and himself. When a chance encounter in Central Park leads him to make the acquaintance of the Vaughts, fellow Southerners who knew his father, Will embarks on a journey that he hopes will tell him what he desperately needs to know. What does he need to know? If Will knew the answer to that, he wouldn't need the Vaughts, or the South, or the haunted memory of his father. Traversing the country, Will seeks the one man he believes will tell him what to do. Percy not only weaves a lush character study of lost Will, but realizes a profound meditation on the nature of identity, place, and home. Above all, like any good picaresque novel, Will's journey is not so much about the end, but about what he discovers along the way. However, as a testament to Percy's imagination and probity, Will's final destination provides nothing less than utter revelation. I closed this book and jumped out of bed immediately, my breath coming in gulps as I absorbed and processed what Walker Percy had taught me with such love, patience, beauty and truth.