Columbia Books

I was very pleased with how quickly my book arrived. It was also in great condition!

Traditional ethnographies have generally focused on large scale aspects of a society's life. In a new approach, Hollan and Wellenkamp are innovating the field of psychological anthropology with ethnographies that focus on the commanalities as well as the differences found in individuals belonging to a particular culture, in this case the Toraja of Sulawesi, Indonesia. This methodology allows readers to understand what it is like to live in Tana Toraja as well as gain insight into the individual lives, not just the society as a whole. The components of the individuals' enculturation can be seen through larger cultural processes of socialization that affect everyone, but person-centered ethnography takes into account the uniqueness of people and that the same culture can lead to drastically different people with differing views on the same issue, despite being raised in the same cultural environment. Contentment and Suffering is well-organized and does not attack the reader with technical jargon. Yet its approach does not condescend to the reader. Its concise wording is direct yet never terse or curt.

I finished National Music Academy in Kiev,Ukraine.Now I`m a professor of violin.Can Icontinue my education in your place?

Cameron's brilliant analysis is the first serious study of the extraordinarily physical aspects of Melville's novel. By combining psychoanalytic analysis with a deep understanding of the Romantic obsession with physical and psychological fragmentation, Cameron creates a deeply penetrating study of these great writers that places them in the central tradition of nineteenth century romanticism. Indeed, next to Tom McFarland's central study on romantic fragmentation and longing, this is the most important study ever to emerge of this central topic.

Like many of the relatively few who will recognize the name, I first encountered Bernardus Silvestris in the final pages of C.S. Lewis' 1938 science fiction novel "Out of the Silent Planet." He is mentioned there as a twelfth-century Platonist who, in addition to writing difficult Latin, used the Malacandrian (Martian) word "Oyarsa" for a class of superior spirits. At the time (the middle 1960s), if I paid any attention at all, I probably assumed that "Bernard of the Forest" was Lewis's version of Lovecraft's Abdul Alhazred, celebrated author of the "Necronomicon" -- an impressive-sounding but non-existent reference. (L. Sprague de Camp's "Science Fiction Handbook," which had sent me to Lewis's books, referred vaguely, but on the whole correctly, to Lewis' use of Neo-Platonic and Gnostic ideas, which would not have clued me in.)

If I thought so, I was corrected by the discussion of Bernardus (in English, often simply Bernard) and the "School of Chartres" (a disputed concept, although now apparently back in favor) when I went on to read Lewis' "Allegory of Love" (1936), a study of medieval literature. Bernardus' "De Mundi Universitate," also known as the "Cosmographia," described with proper bibliographic information, there comes in for some attention as a Latin precursor to later allegorical works in vernacular languages. Bernardus appeared in my reading again, providing examples of medieval concepts and terms, in Lewis' late work, "The Discarded Image: An Introduction to Medieval and Renaissance Literature" (1964).

Still later, as an undergraduate at UCLA, my curiosity aroused by Lewis' quotations, but with no translation in existence, I tried the available Latin text; and I was hardly the only academically-inclined Lewis fan with access to a copy to make the attempt. I soon discovered that (a) Lewis was right about the difficult Latin (and what was difficult for a character in his novel was pretty much impossible for me!), and that (b) the existing edition (Barach and Wrobel, 1876) didn't seem to be very well-edited, which could hardly help matters.

Both feelings about the Latin text were confirmed when, not so very long after that sobering experience, Winthrop Wetherbee's translation appeared in 1973, as "The *Cosmographia* of Bernardus Silvestris." The slender volume included a useful introduction, with textual notes explaining departures from the printed text, and a separate set of explanatory notes following the translation.

The latter were definitely necessary. Reading the book, even in English, proved to be a difficult experience. It did have rewards, beyond finding out what Lewis had been talking about. It offered a look at the unexpected intellectual equipment of a medieval Christian philosopher *before* the Aristotelian revolution, and a Platonism unconnected to the Italian Renaissance, and any Greek texts. (I specify because of the intermittent controversy over a "Renaissance of the Twelfth Century," in which Bernardus and his possible associates can serve as an exhibit.)

It was also, in places, quite charming. Lewis was right about that (although some of his preferred readings of the Latin, and his graceful translations, have had to be dropped in favor of other manuscript evidence.)

I eventually acquired a copy of my own (used; the price asked for the hardcover in the 1970s then seemed extortionate), and have re-read it several times. Still not easy, but always interesting. Eventually, while a graduate student in English literature, I began to feel that I sort of understood it.

The "Cosmographia" is a description of the creation and form of the Universe, using ideas from the rather obscure writer Chalcidius (or, as now preferred, Calcidius), whose Latin commentary on a portion of Plato's dialogue "Timaeus" included the only genuine Platonic text available in Latin Christendom for centuries. "Cosmographia" itself was a sort of dialogue, but in a mixture of verse and prose, as used in the "Consolation of Philosophy" of Boethius (one of the key works of the Middle Ages). Wetherbee identifies allusions to the Pseudo-Dionysius, to Macrobius, and to the Latin translation of the Hermetic *Asclepius* attributed to Apuleius, among others. At times it seems to be expressing Christian ideas in pagan terms, at others dressing up pagan philosophy for Christian readers. It bears little resemblance to Scholastic texts, although Lewis was certainly correct to compare it, in terms of genre if not traceable connections, to the "Romance of the Rose."

I'm going to say STOP RIGHT HERE. If these names and terms mean absolutely NOTHING to you, you will be wasting your time trying to read Bernardus, in any language. If they are a little familiar to you, you will probably need to read a lot more about the literature of medieval Europe before trying it. Better still, add to your readings translations of at least some of the works I have mentioned (Plato instead of Calcidius, although he is, slowly, appearing in English), and some accounts of a number of others I haven't included (Alanus Insulis, for example). If you haven't read Lewis' "The Discarded Image," it would probably be a good place to start.

This may sound like snobbery, but Bernardus was esoteric in his own time, and I am not going to advise anyone to read it without some proper preparation. As I said, it would be a waste of time -- think of running a Marathon without training. I have given it five stars because Wetherbee did a difficult job remarkably well, not because I expect a lot of people to like it.

Of course, if you are motivated enough, you can always try it.

Personally, I had already done of lot of this reading at my first attempt at Wetherbee's volume, and eventually got around to filling in some of the rest. But I also took advantage of a shortcut. Brian Stock's "Myth and Science in the Twelfth Century: A Study of Bernard Silvester" (Princeton University Press) had appeared the previous year, and I raced through a library copy before it could be recalled.

Although not in total agreement with Wetherbee about Bernardus by any means, Stock proved an invaluable guide to the material, and the existing secondary literature. He also provided useful suggestions on how to read such a text, which doesn't quite correspond to anything in modern literature. I still needed to do a lot of catching up, but this was a real boost.

Unfortunately, Stock's book is out of print (and perhaps somewhat more out of date than the translation, due in part to the author's own later work). The current asking price for used copies of it seems to me unreasonably steep, except as a tribute to the book's intellectual value. If you are interested, by all means try a library! If you are the sort of person to really want to understand this branch of medieval literature, you will find yourself using his bibliography as a reading guide.

Wetherbee's translation, on the other hand, has achieved a trade paperback incarnation (1990), and in this form, as university press books with a limited market go, is not too expensive. (The hardcover -- apparently reprinted at the same time, with a much more attractive cover than my old copy -- is still high-priced, and probably aimed at libraries with a generous budget.) I find it easier to imagine it as a text in a graduate seminar than in any but the most rarefied undergraduate course, but I hope that it will continue to find readers, and continue to open eyes to a neglected corner of European thought.

Note: The truly dedicated may want to look into another work by (or "Commonly Attributed to") Bernardus: the "Commentary on the First Six Books of Virgil's Aeneid," translated with introduction and notes by Earl G. Schreiber and Thomas E. Maresca (1977). There was also a text edition the same year, edited by J.W. Jones and E.F. Jones (from which I take the "commonly attributed" description). [I have been prompted to add mention of Peter Dronke's 1978 edition of the Latin text of the "Cosmographia," published by Brill, a great improvement on Barach and Wrobel. It is sometimes available through Amazon, where it is currently listed as "Cosmographia (Textus minores ; v. 53)" by Bernard Silvestris.]

The secondary literature continues to grow, although mainly in journals, and unpublished papers presented at conferences; an on-line search shows that there have been some interesting-looking contributions in the last decade, several, including one specifically on Lewis and Bernardus, by Robert M. Ziomkowski.

I love fashion books, primarily for the photos, but also for the content. This book has both. Anthropology was one of my college majors, and this book is somewhat of an anthropological guide to couture fashion in Canada -- but believe me, it is not boring! The photos are gorgeous, and the information contained in the book should be of interest to any fashion enthusiast.

I truly enjoyed this book. It is a clear and concise introduction to financial policies in which developing and industrial countries engage while globalization continues to affect the world. The book truly helps the reporter and layperson understand the world in which we live.

Why did it take me eight months to finish a book that is such an easy read? Any journalism student could breeze through Covering Violence in a day or so. Yet on many days I found myself reading a page -- or less -- and then setting the book aside. I thought that I was remiss until by chance I talked to two other people who were also reading this book at the same time -- and discovered that they were also plodding through it at a snail's pace. Why? On reflection, I realized that I had been stopping to think. Each paragraph prompted a flood of ideas that demanded contemplation. It forced me to ponder the choices that journalists must make, how their news gathering practises and ensuing coverage affects the people whom they cover -- and how covering grisly stories affects journalists themselves. Read-pause-think: It was reassuring to learn that I was not alone in having the book produce this response in me. I now know what took me so long. I still marvel that it took so long for reporters, as a group, to examine the obvious, lingering and sometimes profound impact of their craft upon individuals, and formulate a code of practise. Covering Violence is an excellent way to start. It will interest seasoned journalists and should be required reading for all journalism students.

This book is fun and easy to read. Answers any question you can think up. It's going on my "keeper" shelf.

I read this book some time ago, the text was so well written, so informative and joyful. It is a garden story, so hard to come by these days, full of laughter... "plants in bondage" we've all been there with delphiniums. A treasure of a story and a window into a Canadian West Coast Garden. Thanks Des.