Chopin and His World establishes multiple new starting points for further studies of one of the world’s greatest composers, yet it can be read with pleasure by people who merely(!) love the music.
Princeton University Press
Do these “four late nineteenth-century visionaries” still speak to us?
This is an important and timely book, one that happens to be compulsively readable and that anyone even mildly interested in the intersection between religion and politics, faith and science, or religious commandment and secular law should read.
I cannot recall reading any book about Jewish history that contains so many “Aha!” moments.
Iris Murdoch proves a wonderful companion: funny, honest, insightful, and courageous.
The New York Times columns selected for Think Again are engaging, provocative, maddening, humorous, and insightful.
What seems to be a constant is a feeling that it is miraculous that these works have come into being, and that they are unlike any other kind of drawing.
In some essential and large way, novelist Colm Tóibin gets Elizabeth Bishop right.
Daniel Arasse’s method has been defined by his students as “looking, [taking] pleasure and [being] imprudent.” Any and every detail of a work of art can serve as his starting point.
If I suffered half as much from the thought that most art has been lost as I suffer every day from the recollection of departed family and friends, I would be in a mental hospital. In this sense, I found myself resisting the message of “The Melancholy Art,” to the point that I felt that the book was laying a guilt trip on me.