Musicologist and critic Deryck Cooke had that rare ability to communicate his enthusiasm for music and literature that would appeal to both the specialist and the layman. His tastes were vast and he could write about such diverse subjects as Delius' Violin Concerto, the works of the Brontes and the songs of Lennon and McCartney. He is perhaps best remembered for his (in his words) "performing version of the sketches of Mahler's 10th Symphony". He always made that distinction as he made it quite clear that only Mahler could complete the symphony. That he could even perform such a feat is a clear indication of his knowledge and love of Mahler's music. This present volume of his written as an introduction to Mahler's music has become a classic that still retains its freshness after 25 years. His clear writing style skillfully guides the listener through even the most thorniest aspects of Mahler's music. A book that should be on the shelf of any lover of Mahler's music or those approaching him afresh who want a sure and knowledgeable guide.

Cooke has an insight into the works and personality of Mahler as the 'completer' of his Tenth Symphony. This book is a brief guide of the life and works of the composer. Interesting biographical detail is interspersed with information about each symphony. The inclusion of the text of the songs is a helpful addition as are the words of Mahler's earliest symphonic composition 'Das Klagende Lied.' Certainly a work that can be read and re-read with pleasure.

I found this book after I had already read quite a significant amount of Jung's work. I was amazed at how peceptive and witty this treatment really is. It makes a great review for the already knowledgeable, and I can see where it would also be an excellent first introduction.

The book covers Jung's early childhood history, his work and differences with Freud, the basics of Jungian Analytical Psychology, type theory, the psychology of religion, the uncanny and synchronicity, the I Ching, astrology, alchemical speculation, and it even addresses and debunks some of the controversial criticisms of his personal life and work. There is also really useful "little dictionary" in the back for those who are not yet familiar with Jungian terminology, or psychology in general.

The illustrations of this book are not mere cut-and-paste filler and distraction, but they exactly augment and demonstrate the topics being discussed. While some might dismiss this as an instructional comic book, there is no obvious "dumbing down" involved.

This is a excellent and insightful little book. In fact, I intend to read it again.

Introducing Jung is not the only book I have from totem's "Introducing" series, but it is one of my favorites. It clearly presents many of the ideas that may be glossed over in your intro to psych class. Like all the "Introducing" books, it is not too muddled with details but rather serves as an excellent jumping off point for research in a subject you may be unfamiliar with. The drawings are also helpful and humorous, especially to those more visual learners. These books make great inexpensive gifts for college students, and they are much apreciated when recieved. They are an overall easy read on not so easy subjects and can be referenced over and over again.

After World War II, still in uniform and having been in a Japanese POW camp, Van der Post arrived in Zurich where his wife was studying with Carl Jung's mistress, Toni Wolff. Van der Post met Jung and an unlikely friendship ensued, based at first on a common love of Africa (van der Post's native continent.) The book explores Jung the man with rich doses of Van der Post's own narrative and subjectivity. It is unusually vivid, non-analytic, yet deep. The era of the end of the War and emerging Cold War helps set Jung in a meaningful context. Van der Post resonates powerfully with Jung's emphasis on dreams, which seems surprising in a man of action, but the depth he achieves in exploring some of Jung's well-known dreams is rewarding. He also catches some of the man's faults and foibles, so the tone, while idealizing on the whole, has a convincing precision of detail. The two men, author and subject, share a deep passion for the religious (as well as similar Reformed roots) and so the reader is drawn into a passionate dialogue about good and evil, God, the collective unconscious, war, racism, and other fascinating themes of Jung's work. Van der Post illuminates Jung's work without getting into the scholarly or pedantic mode, and brings the world of Jung's time to bear on our understanding of the man and his work. In addition to Jung, other members of the Zurich coterie are portrayed with spirited appreciation. Highly recommended.

van der post's fond and poetic account of Carl Jung offers insights into that psychologists often confusing world view. With clarity and conviction, van der Post brings the reader an understanding of Jung's conception of the unconscious currents which link MAN together, and cause MEN to act as they do. Time and again, the author discusses psychological events which bring us the "ah ha" reaction, enabling the reader to put words to emotional and psychological events in their own lives which had remained undeveloped and poorly understood because of our own lack of frames of reference. Van der Post himself adds abundant philosophical and psychological insights, reaching into his own history to interpret myth and soul with eloquent prose. This book is not so much a biography of Carl Gustav Jung as a richly poetic account by van der Post of both Jung's and his own striving to understand what is MAN.

This biography is an excellent introduction into the life of the composer Gustav Mahler. The creative process of his symphonies and his relationship with his wife, the free-spirited Alma, is revealed in great detail, and Franklin avoids any declaration of opinion, forming assumptions through thorough research. And the research comes from reliable resources (Alma's diaries, Mahler's letters, Bauer-Lechner's accounts), and Franklin is clear when the resource may not be all-together reliable.

I particularly appreciated the way he handled the hot topic of the detrimental relationship between Mahler and Alma. He claims that the uneasy marriage is due to the fault of both. Mahler wanted Alma to be an ideal wife, but she desired to be free. Some could say that she was an early feminist, but Franklin doesn't make that assertion. The reader is left to form his own opinion.

The storytelling is often very lucid simply by the careful arrangement of primary accounts, be they newspaper articles, memoirs, letters or diary entries.

The book is not a threatening size, but the content is not something that can be absorbed all in one sitting. Two-hundred pages probably isn't enough to explain all of Mahler's life, but I believe everything of general import is mentioned in this book and analysis is thorough and journalistically sound.

The first glance of this biography told me that what I was about to read was an incredabley detailed and devoted branch of modern, biographical literature (warning, have some prior basic knowledge of Mahler before reading!) Dr. Franklin has certainly shined in this exploration, which cerculates the success of a once dreamy, inspirational child, who became a more practical intellectual both as a composer and conducter. The relationships between Mahler's life and his music are forefronted amongst a variety of primrary and secondary sources, including people most close to the impatient, hot-tempered perfectionist, contrasted with those who simply try to interperate his ideas. The course of development is fine-tuned, also, with several illustrated sources, indicating the places where Mahler had worked and their significances. Within this course embodies the causes and effects of his ideas. Austria-Hungary was riddled with anti-semites, which affected Mahler in more ways than one. Vienna, deaths, modernists, religion, nature, nationalism, and other aspects are explored due to their effect, making this exceptional innovator the eclectic, liberal idealist he would increasingly become. These aspects are brought to us honestly and without bias, which is one of Franklins' great assests. The biography is backed up extensively by quotes, especially from the accounts of de La Grange and auxiliary versions. An introduction prepares the reader with Franklin's task throughout the book, accompanied by the usual notes and useful aids, especially for readers wishing to pursue their interests towards other texts.
The special aspect of theis book is the story being told as it was, with the relationships between Mahler and his wife, the people he worked with, friends, family, and even counter-examinations, where no bias lies. The criticisms are presented to us as well as more valuable accounts recording Mahler's abnormal personality in a way in which we can truely get to grips with this man's philosophy, stringing his ideas in juxtaposition and calculating his aims and methods of going about them. If you like song, dance, long and flowing melodies and richly expressive harmonies, then you will certainly take to the nine symphonies of Mahler. Mahler's sense of colour ranks with the great masters of orchestration, and the spirit of song permeates his art, taking inspirations from cultures of countries like China, with the poems of Li Po. You can learn much more about his sources of inspiration, the times in which he composed, and how those times affected Mahler throughout this biography. Franklin brings forthe descriptions and induces two-way notions to get the reader thinking about these sources, as well as picturing Vienna at the turn of the century and the changing, post-romantic era.
Mahler's life is remarkable, and Peter Franklin has clearly gone to trouble not to offend the person that he was and became, acknowledging the borders that shield wrongs lines of thought. For example, Mahler's wife (Alma) insists "a person should remain a 'person' and not be frozen into a legend, turned into an insufferable plaster-bust". Although we tend to think of composers as slightly odd, abnormal and completely different to ourselves, we must remember that they're still human beings. Franklin injects other points which back this up, touching on Mahler's love for nature and spirit, as well as art, love and religion. I have presented enough of the core elements of the biography, and so what is left is to declare the book as an excellent portrayal, using a variety of techniques in order to capture Mahler the Musician, and the real Mahler, whom always questioned the relationship of his life and his music. The book tends to display thoughts of irony, especially about Mahler's death, and would suit any musicain wishing to broaden thier philosophical answers to why we, and issues like those in Mahler's competitive life, exist. Indeed, any philosopher with enough scape to facilitate a focussed examination of a famous composer would find this biography useful. The book, however, does tend to be slightly uneasy about its purpose (in relation to two major preoccupations which are induced by two statements highlighted in the introduction). Franklin acknowledges this, and says there lies a knot of wide "interrelated issues concerning notions about 'art' and 'genious' and the ways in which they were mediated in the individual experience and in public creative activity in nineteenth-century Europe". That does not mean, though, that one can't interperat Franklins' notions; I found that the concepts of the string of issues formed neater towards the end by re-examining the two statements previously mentioned. That way, synoptically, one can focuss and understand the purpose of the accounts and methods in which the author put them to us, so that we may assemble the notions to acheive the resolution which every reader desires. If you are intellectual enough to percept the outcomes of this intelligent journey, simply jump on board!

Published last year (2002) were two significant resources on Gustav Mahler. One of these - a paperback edition of Donald Mitchell's "The Mahler Companion" - has already been appraised by me, and found to be a superb "companion." The other is this Festschrift volume, edited by Karen Painter, the "published" part of the 2002 Bard Music Festival celebrating Mahler.

The Mitchell and Painter books are similar in some respects, in that both contain essays by expert Mahlerians incorporating good historical/musicological research. But there are also differences, making the books complementary. Where the Mitchell book is broad, with chapters covering all of Mahler's works, the Painter book is more tightly focused, with fewer essays on a narrower range of topics. Part of the appeal of this Painter book is the inclusion of reprints of a vast array of historic criticism that provides an understanding of how Mahler was perceived and received during his lifetime.

Painter's book is worth having for Leon Botstein's lead-off essay ("Whose Gustav Mahler?") alone. A virtuosic work, it earns separate commentary later. But first, briefer comments about some of the book's other strong points.

The first section (CONTEXT AND IDEOLOGIES) contains two fascinating essays that are closely related: Charles S. Maier's "Mahler's Theater: The Performative and the Political in Central Europe, 1890-1910" and Karen Painter's "The Aesthetics of Mass Culture: Mahler's Eighth Symphony and Its Legacy." The thrust of the Maier essay leads naturally into the Painter one.

Working backwards, there are two well-known facts regarding Mahler's Eighth Symphony. The first is that his Eighth Symphony doesn't fit into any convenient scheme for allocating his symphonies by style and content; the Eighth Symphony is a "sui generis" work, powerful in its effect but somewhat baffling in terms of its rightful place in his symphonic canon. The second is that the premiere of the work, in Munich in 1910, was a highly-promoted event, one of the most significant and certainly one of the best documented musical events of the 20th century.

Maier sets the cultural stage that made such a work not only possible but perhaps inevitable as well. It is a fact that music and drama became stages for the "politicization of culture" in the late Habsburg Empire of Mahler's time. This was an empire on the imminent verge of collapse; a manifestation of this imminency was that political parties of every stripe seized upon culture (including music) for their individualistic ends.

Mahler was, inevitably, swept up into this politico-cultural maelstrom, both as conductor and as composer. What he performed at the Vienna Court Opera, and when and why, helps to understand both his political leanings (mildly leftist-Socialist) and, at least in part, his possible motivations for composing hia Eighth Symphony: As a gift to the Austrian people so that they could participate, to his way of thinking, in this "political elevation" of "music as mass culture." And participate they did: Not only was the Munich premiere a cultural phenomenon for its (or any) time, but the work, as political culture, was, for a period, co-opted by both the left and the right. Had Mahler not been Jewish, one can only shudder at how National Socialists might have co-opted the work for their own political ends, a fearsome thought left dangling in Painter's essay.

The final section (MAHLER'S GERMAN-LANGUAGE CRITICS) contains many gems translated into English for the first time. Covering his career as composer and conductor, from sources both friendly and hostile, we get a fuller glimpse of how Mahler was assessed in his own time. The reviews (and obituaries as well) come from all four points of the critical compass: favorable and informed, uncritically favorable and thus critically useless, hostile and critically off-target, and hostile but with an informed understanding. This is as evenly balanced as such an anthology could be.

The fourth category brings us full circle, to Botstein's bravura (but challenging) essay. He posits that hostile but informed commentary was the "jumping-off" point for Theodor Adorno's writings on Mahler. To borrow from Botstein, Mahler might best be understood through the lens of his most dedicated critics; "informed hostility can reveal more acutely than deferential praise the character and virtues of the music."

Botstein's own jumping-off point is a search for an explanation for the enduring interest in Mahler's music. The initial upsurge in interest that began, largely, with Leonard Bernstein very publically championing Mahler, today, nearly a half-century later, shows no sign of slowing, and is in fact increasing, with no obvious end in sight. How, then, to explain the phenomenon?

A key Botstein point is that the 1960s brought us more than Bernstein and a renaissance of performances and and a flood of recordings; it also marked the emergence of Adorno's contributions to "Mahlerology" with the publication of his "Mahler: A Musical Physiognomy." By using "negation" (his cramped "negative dialectics") to "invert" the arguments of Mahler's harshest critics, Adorno found not only "fault lines" in their analyses but totally fresh, if idiosyncratic, insights into characterizing Mahler's music.

A uniquely Adorno insight (in fact, a chapter in his book) was that Mahler was to composing what Flaubert was to writing, with "Madame Bovary" as an exemplary case. Botstein takes this further by suggesting that the novel as perfected by Flaubert served as a written vessel into which the reader could pour himself proactively, as if a protagonist, and that there are clear parallels to this proactivity when listening to Mahler's music.

This is a provocative thought: The listener as active participant. But in a way it was preordained when Mahler eschewed descriptive programs while writing music of some "vernacularity" and ambiguity about that vernacularity. This leaves open the door to our "individuating" our responses to Mahler's music (something which, as Botstein makes clear, is not possible for the programmatic music of Richard Strauss, an obvious counterexample).

A thoughtful and challenging essay, and a very worthwhile book.

This excellent volume was prepared in conjunction with the Bard College's recent Mahler week as part of its Music Festival. It is quite simply a treasure trove of articles for those interested in Mahler's music. Not just the music but cultural , religious , political and social aspects of Mahler's period and how they affected each other are covered. The articles are in depth but not too overly technical so the novice should have no problem enjoying them.
One of the books most fascinatiting aspects is its later half where contemporary reviews of Mahler's music from America and Germany are reprinted. Most of the German reviews appear in translation for the first time. All combine to give a fuller picture of Mahler's world and how it influenced him both as a composer and a person as well as the effects of his music on future generations. We tend to see Mahler's influence as coming some 50 years after his death when recordings made his music more widely available. Several of the writers offer a corrective and show that from the period of his own lifetime Mahler's aristic influences were already spreading and taking hold. With 408 well filled pages the volume really is a bargin in every way.

The subject of this classic of musical analysis is the complicated phenomenon of Mahler's music and our response to it. The treatment is philosophical/psychological/analytic and the abstractness and complexity of the prose is typical of what one would find in a doctoral thesis, except that it is beautifully written (and Jephcott's translation is itself a work of art).

To introduce the subject let me start with an experience of my own, which is no doubt typical. My introduction to Mahler's music was through the Ninth and Tenth symphonies, which is like starting a mountain climb already at the top of the mountain. I was 22 and naturally quite bowled over. Imagine my chagrin then at hearing the Fourth for the first time -- what is this Haydnesque genre piece that ends with a naive song? How could it have been written by the same composer? As always, though, Mahler's music works on one's subconscious and a few days later I felt compelled to listen again, and what a revelation this was! The first movement, in particular, is absolutely extraordinary. It starts with a curious repeated figure, four flutes in unison playing fifths plus a grace note, accompanied by bells; this leads directly into the deceptively classical-sounding main theme and reappears throughout the first movement (and also in the last) as a kind of magic talisman with multiple meanings. The main theme is followed by a striking sunny interlude in A, with bases rocking pizzicato in fifths, a scurrying violin figure, and violas trilling like insects singing in a meadow. I had the impression of an adult and child walking through a field on a summer day. There's a brief change to the minor, then some high sustained notes in the flutes. These are repeated more emphatically by high clarinets, heralding an ominous change, as if the bucolic scene were being overrun by scudding clouds. Things are not what they seemed, and we don't know where we are! Somehow, we've gotten lost in a forest inhabited by goblins, spooky though not actually menacing. There's a swirling sensation accompanied by dark intimations in the bass, chromatic muted trumpets, and repeated sustained high chords in the flutes; the effect is weirdly haunting. After a while a commotion in C develops, drums crescendo, and then suddenly pure terror -- a high trumpet playing fortissimo. By some process of pure magic, the music suddenly recovers its former equanimity and adult and child (who turn out to be one and the same) find themselves back in the sunny meadow. What sublime irony, and how true to human nature -- when we see something uncanny that disturbs us, we try to put it behind us, forget it. Mahler alone is capable of evoking such feelings. Only a magician could have written the Fourth, and Mahler's achievement here is just as great as in the very different late works, not to mention the middle symphonies.

I could cite other personal examples, as could any Mahlerian. We might disagree about particulars, but each of us carries away something essential from Mahler's music and is enriched by it. And we are quite confident that the experience is qualitatively the same from listener to listener.

Adorno approaches the subject of our response to Mahler's music and what it means through his own experiences of it. But what a listener! It's as if a very learned friend with a doctorate in Mahler stopped by to discuss the subject over tea and ended up staying all week. A gifted writer and philosopher, as well as a professionally trained composer who studied with Berg, Adorno discusses all the symphonies except the Tenth and is always interesting even when you disagree with him. Musicological jargon is mostly avoided, although philosophical-rhetorical terms abound (he loves the word "aporia").

Two caveats. First, the treatment is vulnerable to the charge of "over-intellectualization". One recalls Mahler's reply to William Ritter, an early admirer:"... I find myself much less complicated than your image of me, which could almost throw me into a state of panic." It seems that we, and particularly Adorno, are the complicated ones. We project our feelings onto the music, which seems to invite them to an extent that would surprise even the composer. The mystery of why this is so, and the multifariousness of Mahler, the capacity of his music to be offensive, highly questionable, fascinating, and sublime all at the same time, form the subject of the book.

Second, and more seriously, he disparages Mahler's "ominous positivity" and thereby underestimates the Eighth Symphony at least (readers may agree that the finale of the Seventh is problematic; he does not discuss the extraordinary Tenth, which achieves a wholly serene, positive conclusion). But the positive in Mahler is an essential part of his dynamic disequilibrium; without it, there would be no aporia and the music would degenerate into mere cynicism. Most of the symphonies follow a pattern -- conflict, followed by attempted reconciliation and reconstruction. This process is entirely sincere, and if it fails even in Mahler's hands, it's because he's attempting to do the impossible. Even in the Sixth, the most "tragic" and "despairing" of the symphonies, a good performance will reveal powerful updrafts. To deny the positive in Mahler is to chop him in two. That Adorno's book is nonetheless required reading is testimony to the value of his other observations.

Who then is this book for? It is best for Mahlerians of long standing, those who are well past the first flush of discovery and have regained their musical equilibrium so to speak, and who want to put Mahler in perspective, or even just "share" opinions with an uncommonly intelligent and sensitive critic.

If you know anything about Theodor Adorno, you might well be familiar with the entire edifice of western cultural and philosophic thought; Kant,Hegel,Kierkegaard,and Marx,the history of art,literature,painting and music. Less film,a realm Adorno never got to know. Here in Mahler,we have a concise profile of this one time neglected composer, long misunderstood,even today. I recall a rehearsal with Bernstein and the Vienna Philharmonic who couldn't quite understand Bernstein's raving from the heart,for clarity yet passion. Adorno knew Mahler's art much better than Mahler ever did for we learn this from Adorno, that Mahler simply abandoned himself to his own intuition to resolve his creative problems. Each chapter in this masterwork in miniature is self-sustaining. In the chapter "Tone" Adorno reveals the basic music materials of Mahler his orchestral pallete. The high positioned violins,in uncomfortable registers where they loose their souls to a menanced, shrill, thin timbre. The string section for Mahler is creatively undisciplined to begin with, each playing differing roles, each contributing its own independence, as in the opening of Mahler's "Ninth" Symphony, the melody tossed between the violins, tremoli in the violas, and the contrbass above or equal in register to all with harmonics. Mahler's progressiveness was in pure content,he was not one to pursue "tangible innovations" but secured his tenuous position with the diatonic mode,familiar scales and harmonic surfaces. A chiaroscuro of means (schatten) the shadows he creates with reliefs of foreground and background. Tonality is not so much renewed as an unheard voice enters the stage, Mahler's voice cracks,is overstrethched, the various woodwind passages like in the "Scherzo" of his "Seventh" Symphony. The forced tone is itself an expressive innovation of his own making a premonition of the darker legubrious brooding up the road in the orchestral works of Arnold Schoenberg. In fact we find ev! ery bit of these darker pages in Mahler before the horrors which await the citizens of Eastern Europe,even up to Bosnia. Adorno's focus is always how Mahler creates meaning within familiar confines,the roads that lead to simple harmonies. He disrupts the stability of rhythm,of gesture that once was, the familiar in Mahler's orchestral context becomes something quite different, no longer can the romantic symphony depend on redemption. Bruckner could depend on this, for he already found his spirituality, whereas Mahler spent his life in pursuit of it . Adorno in the chapter "Novel" reveals the non-progressive side of Mahler.He needed to depend on some stability so his musical characters come and go untarnished at times, the lowlife natural trombone,to the intimate/elegant solo violin, and the cracking horn moments in Mahler. This is where we find "Stufenreichtum" the richness of texture,the musical thread running from the full orchestral (tutti) everyone's voice heard, to the single voice the solos. This is Mahler's context from the distance "in sehr weiter entfernung" to the immediate. It is this expressive immediacy, he learned from Beethoven that gives way to developed chaos as his life wears away. The overblown vacuous "Eighth Symphony" resolved nothing for his real creativity, and the "Ninth" the ideas begin toward the irrational,Mahler is serious even in the "Rondo-Burleske" from the "Ninth",the almost improvised gesture reminded me of Charles Ives,who was writing just about the same time. Adorno's chapter "Variant-Form" we learn Mahler's technique progressed away from what an academic would consider "good" Mahler needn't be as glib as Richard Strauss,nor as consummate as Wagner. He learned music in another way and pointed toward a profound goal. A goal in which his music simply breaks its own voice "Durchbruch" as Adorno mentions where there was no comfort in traditional moments. Adorno opens thi! s expressive vault of Mahler and we can see Mahler again. As recently as Pierre Boulez in his ongoing recordings with The Chicago Symphony we find a Mahler quite as a turning point to the 20th century. Well Boulez brings Mahler into our century whether we want him there or not. Boulez brings a sublime ugliness at times to Mahler's simplicity, the functional predictable movements of harmony creates a kind of timbral dirt. Mahler wanted this. No we are not done with his marvelous "Symphonies" we can contemplate them for some time.

My 9 year old daughter enjoyed this book when we got it for her some years ago. But my son absolutely LOVES this book and tape. Many nights we will just play the music for him before he goes to bed. The music is beautiful and the story is enchanting.

The Musical Life of Gustav Mole is, by far, one of the most engaging books I have ever had the pleasure to read. I purchased it for my children years ago and have since lost the cassette tape. It is my own great loss. The music and storyline complement one another with rich imagination and sweet sampling of specific instruments. I appreciate this lovely book and it's accompanying cassette-wherever it may be...

It could be an exaggeration when I call the Kobbes Opera Guide a Bible for opera lovers. But it's a very resourceful book on operatic composers, performers and the rich history of opera from its early days in Baroque Italy. Everything you want to know is here...the opera comique style, Baroque masters such as Gluck and Handel, the Rossini operas, bel canto beauties such as the Donizetti operas, German operas and French operas. It is a very monumental source of information on singers as well, sopranos from the very talked about Maria Callas (1923-1977), Joan Sutherland, Beverly Sills, and recent singers as Renee Fleming and Sumi Jo, tenors Placido Domingo, Nicolai Gedda, Luciano Pavoratti, Jon Vickers, and their careers. A must have for any true opera buff. Immerse yourself into the stories of operas and its fascinating background in music.

The new format of this magnificent reference book is the most outstanding feature of this revised, updated work. The prior Kobbe's clumsily, but not wholly improperly , catlogued composers like a taxonomical excercise. The genus being the chronological era and the species is the nationality of the composer. Thus German composers in the nineteenth century with singular emphasis on Wagner are grouped; then Italian opera for that century, and so on through Europe. Then we come to the twentieth century and all over again with this format but encompassing the world by nation. The revised volume has nothing more outstanding than an alphabetical arrangement for the subjects, but how outstanding and important this seemingly simple change is cannot be overestimated. This is a required reference book for opera afficianados whatever level of knowledge of the subject one possesses.

This is one of the best books on Nietzsche and Jung. It argues very effectively that Nietzsche was not a simple atheist but had his own religious quest. The book is very clearly written despite the difficulty of its subjects. The scholarship is luminous on every page. I've studied Nietzsche and Jung for over twenty years but found myself learning many new things. I highly recommend this book to anyone who is interested in either Nietzsche and Jung. Despite the high price of the book it will be a splendid addition to your library.

Dixon has resolved the conflicting views of two modern geniuses on the lack of wholeness in modern technological culture. This is as current as the madness in Kosovo and Littleton. She cuts throught the jargon, lays out their real, common, and divergent viewpoints, and links them to classical Christian and Grecian thinking. Much of Nietzsche's writings has been totally misread, for several reasons. Buttressed by vast references she explains why, rebuts the errors and reveals an astonishing concurrence between Philosophy and Psychology. She is amazing and very readable while maintaining the highest scholarship.

Harry is the one who has put the pieces of the puzzle of psychology together with good clarity and understanding. Practical Jung is an apt title. Harry has managed to see through Carl, The Buddha and Lao Tzu. A lot of practical advice here for a otherwise theoretical subject. A Must Read for the serious student of Psychology, Zen and Tao !

During the late 1970's and early 80's I was privileged to be one of Dr. Wilmer's psychiatric residents at the University of Texas Medical School at San Antonio. His third-year seminar on Analytical Psychology was one of the most popular of the training program seminars. This volume includes much of the material that he presented there...useful chapters on such topics as the therapeutic relationship, transference and countertransference, dream interpretation. Dr. Wilmer also "demystifies" Jungian psychology and explains such concepts as archetypes, psychological types, and individuation. I highly recommend this book to psychotherapists (social workers, psychologists, psychiatrists) who may not have had much exposure to the work of CG Jung in their own training programs. The book reflects Dr. Wilmer's wisdom, humor, and his empathy for his patients.