Notre Dame Books

Commonplace as well as painful experiences occurring in the lives of first-generation offspring flesh out these narratives of four young Arab-American girls/women whose immigrant parents tenaciously hold to cultural traditions of their homelands, while their daughters navigate to integrate into the American culture without damaging valuable family relationships. The tales of these 21st-century families are rooted in the Palestianian-Arab culture and are articulated through the voices and attitudes of different personalities, all friends, who live in and around the Arab community in South Philadelphia. One does wonder whether or not the experiences of this century's immigrants to America are all that different from those of other ethnicities in the early 20th century, such as the Jews, Irish and Italians. Personally,I suspect not, although that does not in any way diminish the value and poignancy of the stories.

This collection of anecdotally-crafted stories illustrate the unvarnished, up-close realities of culture clashes, both within families and well as within the community-at-large. It's a nice read and should raise the sensitivity level of those whose intolerance tends to eclipse rationality.

As I finished reading this book poolside, in a rare late afternoon alone and reading, I was so obviously teary that the also-reading-woman beside me asked, "Good book?"
"Yes," I admitted, diving back into the narrative that had held me for the last 24 hours. I could not stop. Nadia, Hanan, Layla, and all the mothers, the Babas held me in the webs that had been woven for me to follow. And follow I had. This book is so well written, the stories so specific, yet full of the universal appeal of love/birth/survival/death, that I was entranced, caught in the web of South Philly and Arab-American culture.
While this is a collection of short stories, they do weave a web of tales that create a plot for careful readers to follow. The daughters seek ways to stay within family bounds while finding a path in American society. All Americans not native to this country will be able to trace a connection to these women, both generations, and the various men whom they love. I will be a long time holding the lives and loves of these characters as I continue to find my own path in this American society.

The Inheritance of Exile is an authentic novel discussing the lives of Arab-American women living in south Philly. The author portrays the difference of the two cultures very well. Her book represents the dilema,and the frustrations that all first generation Immigrants face living in this country; trying to embrace the new culture and letting go of some of the old. While reading the book I felt that I am reading about my life living and growing up in this country. It is an excellent novel and I am looking forward to reading more written by the author in the future.

Muaddi Darraj's collection of short stories, read together, form a loosely chronological narrative of the three-generation history of a Palestinian Christian immigrant family in south Philadelphia: Nadia, the narrator, her parents Nader and Siham, and her grandmother Siti. Strong women run in the family, and each generation is faced with the need to compromise between Old Country tradition and the American Dream. When Siham leaves her native Jerusalem to follow her new husband Nader to America, she is in for a rude discovery: that he was once married to a beautiful blonde American. When her sister falls in love with a WASP, the whole family turns against her for marrying outside of her community. When the daughter, Nadia, publishes a short story lampooning a family wedding, her father- initially so proud of his "writer" daughter- is indignant over the insulting portrayal of the behavior of certain family members. Why, he laments, could she not have stuck to fiction?
This particular theme is likely to strike a wincing chord from many writers of immigrant heritage, caught between the imperatives of using the material at hand in their writing, and the indignation and incomprehension of traditional-minded relatives for whom family dignity is sacred. But then, wasn't it Thomas Wolfe who said you could never go home again, at least not after washing your family's linen in public?
Not that Darraj does this here. Her stories are gently humorous at worst. The cultural and generational tensions that run through her work are merely the frame for the fierce interactions of close-knit families everywhere, in Jerusalem or in South Philly.

Susan Muaddi Darraj is a thoughtful young writer who uses a set of interlocking stories about four young Palestinian-American women and their mothers to explore the theme of exile, adjustment and hope, set in the very real neighborhoods of South Philadelphia. Her lyrical stories about her appealing and all too real characters explore important themes associated with immigration: cultural misunderstanding, religious differences (most of her exiled characters are Christians), intergenerational expectations, and the role of food and family in preserving and exploring culture. Overall, a very good read.

Privately printed in 1904 (and revised seven years later), "Mont Saint Michel and Chartres" was never meant for the general public. It's the intellectual's ultimate "what I did on my summer vacation" essay, written for friends as a gift to accompany their excursions through France. The first half is a highly personal travel book and an idiosyncratic guide to art and architecture of medieval French cathedrals (particularly of Chartres); the last six chapters offer a succinct excursion through the spiritual mindset of the twelfth and thirteenth centuries.

If you've never been to Mont Saint Michel or to Chartres, the first ten chapters can be hard going; it's like reading a 250-page description of a painting you've never seen. Even if you have been to both locations, it's unlikely you'll remember the details Adams expected his readers to have in front of them. Fortunately, his prose is not dry (and is at times characteristically witty). Adams is able to render vividly the fleches, the portals, the arches, the statues, and the stained glass panels, and he provides the tourist with a thorough understanding of the achievement represented by medieval religious art. He also supplies as background a wealth of related literary and historical references .

The tenth chapter (and the last of Adams's official "tour") focuses less on the cathedral of Chartres itself and more on the cult of the Virgin that it represents. It serves as a segue to the second half of the book, which will be far more accessible to general readers. He compares contemporary portrayals of three queens--Eleanor of Guienne (Aquitaine), Blanche of Castile, and Mary of Champagne (who wasn't really a queen, but never mind)--to the representations of the Virgin Mary in the art, in poetry, and in hagiography. "The Virgin was a real person, whose tastes, wishes, instincts, passions, were intimately known," Adams argues. "Like other Queens, she had many of the failings and prejudices of her humanity." The final three chapters turn to the intellectual life: the ongoing tensions between universalism and nominalism, Bernard and Abelard, mysticism and rationalism--all culminating in the balancing act of Thomas Aquinas.

Over 75 years ago the "Cambridge History of English and American Literature" judged Adams's book as "probably the best expression of the spirit of the Middle Ages." Well, not quite; such a view could be proffered by a literary critic perhaps, but certainly not by a historian, and I think Adams himself would have been appalled by such a statement. (A more accurate and more thorough account from the early twentieth century is Charles Homer Haskins's "Renaissance of the Twelfth Century," published in 1927.) What Adams offers here is a glimpse of the medieval Catholic intellectual spirit as seen through the prism of his own rather conservative nineteenth-century Protestantism. His book is not so much a scholarly treatise as it is a wistful refashioning of the medieval spirit.

Henry Adams' MONT SAINT MICHEL AND CHARTRES (MSMC) is simply a great book. Adams' lucid writing style and his insights are impressive, and this book should be read by every supposedly "educated" individual. Adams deals with complex topics such as Gothic Architecture, Medieval poetry and mysticsim, and Scholastic Philosophy with clarity and ease.

The early sections of MSMC compare the church of Mont Saint Michel with the Catholic view of St. Michel who was militant and was the perfect example of the Medieval hero defending the Catholic Church against all enemies. The comparison with this church with that of Chartres which was the examplar of God's mercy via St. Mary is insighful and facinating reading.

Such embellishment of St. Mary or Notre Dame(Our Lady)is further investigated in Adams book by Adams' careful treatment of Medieval Poetry. Adams's translations of Medieval French and Latin are good and give those who are not familiar with these languages a better understanding of both the poetry and the Medieval devotion to St. Mary.

Much of this peotry was mystical, and Adams demonstrates the attempt of St. Francis and the Franciscans to use such mystical thought in their missionary efforts to help the very poor. St. Francis' mysticism is revealed in Adams' translation of St. Francis' poem titled BROTHER SUN AND SISTER MOON.

Henry Adams then compares and contrasts Medieveal mysticism, which bordered on Pantheism, with Scholastic Philosophy. Adams gives the reader an insight to scholastic debate when he summarizes the debate between William of Champaux and Peter Abelard(1079-1142). Here Adams demonstrates his understanding of how students and masters argued and learned. He also shows the careful balence the Catholic authorities tried to impose between reasoned debate and heresy.

The last section of the book deals with the Angelic Doctor, St. Thomas Aquinas (1225-1274). Adams careful treatment of Aquinas' thought is worth the price of the book. Adams gives the Angelic Doctor high praise for both his clear thinking and liberality. Adams also effectively deals with the liberality of the Medieval Catholic authorities who canonized so many men whose views were apparently contradcitory.

Henry Adams' MONT SAINT MICHEL AND CHARTRES is intellectual history at its best. The book deals with complex ideas and views in an attractive literary style which holds the readers' interest. This reviewer has read this book numerous times since he first read it in 1968 and has never found the book to be boring. Readers should also read Thomas Woods HOW THE CATHOLIC CHURCH BUILT WESTERN CIVILIZATION and compare Woods sections on the High Middle Ages with Adams' book.

A reading of Richard Brookhiser's recent (and highly recommended) *America's First Dynasty* sent me back to *Mont Saint Michel and Chartres*, a book I hadn't read in thirty years. I'm glad I returned to it, because a few years have, I trust, put me in a better position to appreciate what's going on in the book.

On one level, the most obvious one, Adam's book is a sometimes idiosyncratic history of Medieval art, literature, and religion that takes as its center of gravity the great Gothic cathedrals of the period--structures that Adams thinks sum up what the middle ages are all about. To read the book on this level alone is fine. It provides intriguing insights into, for example, courtly love and the cult of Mary.

But I now believe that, at a deeper level, the book is disguised autobiography on the one hand and a backhanded history of Adams's own time on the other. An at times overwhelming sense of nostalgia permeates the book. In reading Adams on the 11th century mystics, the debates of the schoolmen, the chansons of the troubadours, and the unified worldview of the middle ages, one can almost hear him sigh with longing to return to a world which, he thinks, was whole, unfractured, and pure--a world, as the medievals themselves would've said, which reflects "integritas." This reveals a great deal about the restless, unquiet nature of Henry Adams the man. But it also reveals the restless, unquiet nature of the modern era which spawned and molded him: the gilded age, the fast-paced first wave of capitalism, secularism, and consumerism, which has no center of gravity, no art, no tradition. And even though we claim to be living in a "postmodern" age, it seems to me that a great deal of the qualities Adams deplored in his own times are still with us and account for our own sense of homelessness.

*Mont Saint Michel and Chartres,* then, is more than a quaint turn-of-the-last-century history. Read correctly, it's also a mirror of our present discontent. Highly recommended.

Mont-Saint-Michel and Chartres should be considered and read alongside The Education of Henry Adams. In Chartres, he described the medieval world view as reflected in its cathedrals, which he believed expressed "an emotion, the deepest man ever felt--the struggle of his own littleness to grasp the infinite." Adams was drawn to the ideological unity expressed in Roman Catholicism and symbolized by the Virgin Mary; he contrasted this coherence with the uncertainties of the 20th century. An intellectual journey of an American's view of France.

A friend suggested I read this book as I love most things French and especially Medieval buildings. I have visited both places before but obviously did not take in the detail Adams did on his visit to them. His tales are delightful, though sometimes hard to follow. The book is intellectual but really anyone can sit down and read this and be entertained.

Before reading this book I had been researching the Cathars of 11th-12th century France and this made a delightful addition to my reading on the Cathars. I recommend this book because it is stimulating, the imagery is wonderful, and it is historical.

Hauerwas is like many theologians out there who say a lot about something without really saying much at all.
While there is much to commend this book on, most of it is surrounded by fluffy long sayings that don't actually mean very much.

Hauerwas does well to point out as Christians we should not attempt to do ethics without qualifying our ethic as distinctively Christian, and that our ethic is built upon the foundations of the narrative of Scripture as well the community that is to embody that narrative- the Church. Also, I like how Hauerwas stresses that deciding what actions are ethical can only be properly understood based on our understanding of "being" a Christian.

As commendable as all this is, Hauerwas does not deal too much with what the Scriptures actually say. He tends to make assumptions that sound like they are Biblical. For example, Hauerwas tends to put a virtue such as peace on top of his hierarchy of virtue. Yet, he doesn't really attempt to explore what the Scriptures say on peace. He eventually comes to understand peace as non-violence/war. However, is such Biblical? However, if that is so, then why did Jesus tell his disciples to carry around a sword? If Jesus was against violence, then why did He affirm the use of violence as a means of establishing justice, by dying on the cross? Scripturally speaking, there is a time when justice must choose violence in order for justice to be established. Scripturally speaking, there is a time for war (Eccl 3:8).

It is ironic that while Hauerwas has much to say for Christians being faithful to the narrative of Scripture, that Hauerwas turns so little attention to what the Scriptures say. He consistantly is vague in dealing with the Scriptures, and really does not interact with them throughout this book. He simply pays mere lip service to them. He seems much more interested in interacting with Barth, MacIntyre, McCormick, Niebuhr, and Yoder, than with Jesus or Paul.

I am not totally against the pacifist position, and it has much appeal to me. I believe that Christians should not participate in war that is ultimately selfish in nature. I believe if Christians partake in war, then it should only be for the purpose of defending the nation, or protecting another nation that is completely innocent. I believe such can be justified from the fact that Romans 13 teaches that the government has been given the sword by God.

It does not take much of a leap in logic to say that if Christians are part of that government that has been given the sword, then Christians have the right and duty to, when is warranted, to participate in war in the name of justice. Even Hauerwas himself admits that he has sympathy for this position, and admits that it cannot be discounted as a possibility for Christians (p. 114-115). However, he refuses to really even dialogue with this position and simply says that most the time that justice is not really the underlying issue of why a war is waged. Then he goes on to say that true justice is never established through violence; in spite of the fact that justice was established through the violence of the cross.

Ultimately the position Hauerwas takes up is that the Christian should rely on providence as the only option instead of taking up arms, and being patient enough to do so. This isn't exactly earth-shattering theology. All that Hauerwas does is a lot of tap dancing throughout this book, with the occassionally impressive maneuver that impresses the crowd.

Interesting book. His main thesis is that within society at large Christians should not claim to be anything else other then Christians. Furthermore, their concern should be in building the church up and not worrying as much about the greater society. Furthermore, he is not so much interested in issues and in the person. In other words, any confusion about what a person is to do is because the individual does not know who they are. Once they understand who they are then the decisions will come naturally. These points, as well as some other, are controversial. This book gives Hauerwas' controversial positions a systematic explanation. Not everybody is going to agree with him, but yet his ideas have become influential and are important to understand.

Stanley Hauerwas is without a doubt one of the most influential theologians if not the most influential of the contemporary theological milieu. The Peaceable Kingdom, is an excellent starting point for those wanting to dive into Hauerwas. This is one of his earlier works and written at an accessible level. Much of what he says is restated in his immensely popular work co-authored with William Willimon in Resident Aliens, which is a must read as well. Hauerwas's engagement with such a variety of disciplines provides a profound work on what it means to be a Christian. His most noticeable influences being Karl Barth, John Howard Yoder, Alasdair MacIntyre, and Ludwig Wittgenstein among others (see xix). Whether or not you agree with Hauerwas you have to engage him. His writing is exceptionally readable and spiritually challenging. If you're not a Christian his work won't make sense, that's part of the point. If you are a Christian after reading this book you will pray.

For four weeks I resisted the professor who had assigned Hauerwas; I battled Hauerwas on narrative's value and on his "obvious" lack of appreciation for the Brothers Niebuhr. I'd take Augustine's "just war" or Mouw's Divine Command ethics any day. Then it happened. I started doing ethics in the middle; I pitched three fourths of Kant and most of the consequentialists. I saw peace as the singular Christ trait, and I was ashamed and penitent. I read on through more and more Hauerwas to find how to "do church" as just such an authentic--albeit alien community. I don't know if I'm ready to walk over hot coals to march on Kosavo, but if Hauerwas left, I'd follow. To read Hauerwas changes Christians. Others probably won't "get" him because it takes a hefty amount of divine intervention to trust God that much. In the year since I first read this book I have had to re-think and/or re-tool everything about being a Christian. This is authentic Christianity--not the accommodationist Warrior-Christianity of Constantine, Belfast and Belgrade--and dare I say most American "chump-morality" preaching. Go ahead, fight with Hauerwas. I double dare ya! Watch the tools of peaceableness metamorphose you. I know.

The Peaceable Kingdom is subtitled "A Primer in Christian Ethics". However, unlike most introductory ethics books Hauerwas' book is not issue based offering a chapter on say abortion, war or any other issues). Instead however invites the reader to gain a insight into a christian ethics based not issues but the Christian story and the Community of God. This book is an excellent introduction to Hauerwas' thought that unlike his other essay based books reads very well.

One of the advantages of this edition is the helpful postscript Hauerwas has written marking the twenty years since the book's initial publication. Twenty years on Hauerwas still claims this is the most helpful introduction to his thought, I tend to agree.

In the 2002 reprint of the early-1990s publication, Murray A. Sperber utilizes unexamined documents from the Notre Dame sports archives and digs even further into unmasking the myths surrounding the beginnings of football as a (inter)national institution at the university.

For example, Sperber found Knute Rockne's personal and athletic department correspondence in the basement of a campus library. And though the rules for recruiting were much different in Rockne's time, Sperber concludes that institutional control became nearly impossible as the coach became a living legend. Some things never change, I guess.

Though Rockne takes center-stage in the history, Sperber devotes ample space to the founding of the school by French priests and the growth of the university during the times of rampant anti-Catholicisim. Go no further than what the "Orange" nickname actually meant at Syracuse University to understand that issue.

Sperber follows the path of the program through the hiring of Frank Leahy in 1941, though his conclusions - as timely now as they were more than a decade ago - takes aim at the money-go-round of major college athletics and the rumblings it can cause in the foundation of the university framework.

In 2006, Sperber presented several lectures on the Rockne legend and ND football, proving the book is still reaching fans and those interested in the college's rich tradition on the gridiron that has made it "America's Team," to love or hate.

To most Americans, the idyllic, idealistic era of college football in the early 20th century was summed up by Pat O'Brien as Knute Rockne and Ronald Reagan as George Gipp in the film "Knute Rockne All-American." Sperber's meticulously-detailed and well-researched book debunks many of the popular myths about Rockne that grew from the film while chronicling the growth of college football into a big-time endeavor that is sometimes only tenuously connected to collegiate education.

While the author does not explicitly connect the sport of the 1920s with the sport of today, the cliche about history repeating itself comes to mind again and again when reading this book. College football in the days of Knute Rockne, similar to college football in the present days of the BCS, was filled with highly-paid coaches threatening to leave their team for more lucrative pastures, questionable recruiting tactics, players who spent more time in pool halls than in the classroom, allegations over weak "cupcake" scheduling, huge payouts by boosters for matchups in Soldier Field or Yankee Stadium and other headlines that still appear in modern sports pages.

Notre Dame fans would enjoy an objective, unique story about the most famous program in collegiate athletics, while sports fans in general should also enjoy this revealing picture of how college football was transformed into the multi million dollar behemoth it is today.

All ND fans should read this book and keep it in their library.
The most comprehensive history of the early days of ND football.

Dr. Sperber unearthed Knute Rockne's personal and athletic department correspondence in the basement of Hesburgh Library and relied heavily upon it to create this insightful account of the times and tenure of Knute Rockne. Anyone who longs for the old days but wants to know what they were really like will find this book fascinating. Over time, the world has forgotten the way the nation mourned the passing of the great coach. It has also forgotten the genius, showman, businessman, and competitor that produced football's greatest record of achievement.

This book relies upon primary documents to breathe life into old attendance figures, names enshrined in Monogram Hall, and won-loss records. Newspaper accounts of the time and Rockne's correspondence reveal the corruption of the officiating, eligibility rules, and recruiting of his contemporaries but does not absolve him from his role. Preview: "Pop Warner football" should bear a different name.

Shortcomings include the meandering accounts of coaches, trends, and University presidents that can quickly become confusing. I strongly recommend "The Notre Dame Football Encyclopedia" (Marder, Spellen and Donovan, Citadel Press, 2001) as a companion to put the results of critical wins, losses, and seasons into perspective. The author's treatment of individual topics (the Rockne biopick, Geoge Gipp, etc.) separately tends to make the context of the seasons and their results hard to follow.

Dr. Sperber also shows his opions about big-time college athletics too boldly. He describes the "reform" movement of Rockne's era deftly but cannot help editorializing from his own campaigns at Indiana University, going so far as to name Coach Bob Knight in a footnote as an example of sport gone awry. Although his distinguished American Studies background serves him and the reader very well, his views come through clearly.

This book is excellent and provides wonderful insight into how Notre Dame football came to life.

SHAKE DOWN THE THUNDER is a scholarly look at a sports phenomenon - the creation and early development of football at Notre Dame to 1941 and the hiring of Frank Leahy as coach. Much of the book is devoted to the politics within the university community among the coaches, administrators and influential alumni. It is also a story about the rise of Notre Dame football during a period when Catholics were striving for more influence politically and more acceptance in general in the United States.

The author makes much use of the private correspondence of Knute Rockne and paints a very unromantic picture of the great coach and some of his star players. Based on this book Lee Marvin or Robert Mitchum instead of Ronald Reagan are the best choices to play the part of George Gipp in a movie.

SHAKE DOWN THE THUNDER is more of a cultural history than a football story. It contains very little football action. The book is well-researched and shows how both the urge to overemphasize college football and the resulting forces trying to contain it have been in existence for a long time.

This is the second time I've read Notre-Dame de Paris (the first time was with a different translator, but I don't see any real difference with the writing), and I certainly have a better understanding of the story. The book's main character is Notre-Dame, and the supporting characters are Claude Frollo, La Esmeralda, and Quasimodo. Frollo is the Archdeacon who lusts after La Esmeralda. Quasimodo is the hunchbacked bell-ringer of Notre-Dame. La Esmeralda is a 16-year old gypsy girl who is the target of witchcraft by the Parisians. What happens in the novel is sophisticated: basically Claude Frollo & Quasimodo fight for the love of Esmeralda, and it doesn't turn pretty as Esmeralda has fallen in love with Phoebus de Chateaupers, one of the King's captains.

One of the things I particularly enjoyed was Hugo's descriptions of the gothic cathedral itself. The chapter entitled "A Bird's-Eye View of Paris" is a pleasure to read. Another thing is the switching of POV's in every chapter; Hugo made a brilliant execution of this. Despite a few flaws here and there (such as Book Ten/Chapter Four interrupting the very important assault on Notre-Dame), "Notre-Dame de Paris" is of course a classic in the world of literature. And it's almost sad that most people recognize the book with only the english title "The Hunchback of Notre Dame". Almost sad, because Quasimodo is not the central character. I hope more and more people will understand that the cathedral itself is the actual central character (even though it's not human).

The novel which is so poorly mistranslated as "The Hunchback of Notre-Dame" is one which sadly few people have read. Disney has done this novel a great injustice. Hugo paints an elaborate and incredible picture of 15th-century Paris. The main character is not Quasimodo, the infamous hunchback, but rather the cathedral of Notre Dame itself. It is a complex and powerful character who shifts dramatically depending on who percieves it. Hugo is a brilliant writer; each image is beautiful, each line a poem. The book is four hundred pages of pure poetry. I highly recommend this novel for anyone who appreciates good literature.

I still do not have the faintest idea as to why Disney could possibly make this book into a children's movie. First of all, I would rate the unabridged book itself "PG-13"...but anyway. This book, more popularly known as "The Hunchback of Notre-Dame" (even though the plot circles around the Cathedral, not Quasimodo) is like a twisted "Romeo and Juliet" story sans star-crossed lovers. The real protagonist (in my opinion) is Esmarelda, the sixteen year old gypsy dancer. She falls passionatly in love with the chauvanistic stuff-shirt Captain Pheobus whotakes advatage of her love while meanwhile courting a young, rich noblewoman. Meanwhile, both Quasimodo the deaf bell-ringer and Claude Frollo the fanatical archdeacon fall madly in love with Esmerelda. So naturally things get quite chaotic when the gypsy is sentanced to death for "murdering" the captain. The action so is spectacular, especially the siege of Notre Dame, that I almost forgot I was reading it, not actually standing in Place de la Greve watching it all happen. Hopefully I don't give too much away when I say yes, there is a heck of a lot of dying going on throughout the book. This book, unfortunately, does have its long, slow, boring parts too...such as the beginning--just get through it and you'll be alright. And unless you are an ardent scholar of mideival architecture or French history, go ahead and skip the chapters titled "Notre-Dame" and "A birds eye view of Paris". P.S: my favorite part...Esmarelda's "marriage" to Pierre Gringiore, and also Gringiore's unhealthy obsession with the gypsy's goat :-)

I still do not have the faintest idea as to why Disney could possibly make this book into a children's movie. First of all, I would rate the unabridged book itself "PG-13"...but anyway. This book, more popularly known as "The Hunchback of Notre-Dame" (even though the plot circles around the Cathedral, not Quasimodo) is like a twisted "Romeo and Juliet" story sans star-crossed lovers. The real protagonist (in my opinion) is Esmarelda, the sixteen year old gypsy dancer. She falls passionatly in love with the chauvanistic stuff-shirt Captain Pheobus whotakes advatage of her love while meanwhile courting a young, rich noblewoman. Meanwhile, both Quasimodo the deaf bell-ringer and Claude Frollo the fanatical archdeacon fall madly in love with Esmerelda. So naturally things get quite chaotic when the gypsy is sentanced to death for "murdering" the captain. The action so is spectacular, especially the siege of Notre Dame, that I almost forgot I was reading it, not actually standing in Place de la Greve watching it all happen. Hopefully I don't give too much away when I say yes, there is a heck of a lot of dying going on throughout the book. This book, unfortunately, does have its long, slow, boring parts too...such as the beginning--just get through it and you'll be alright. And unless you are an ardent scholar of mideival architecture or French history, go ahead and skip the chapters titled "Notre-Dame" and "A birds eye view of Paris". P.S: my favorite part...Esmarelda's "marriage" to Pierre Gringiore, and also Gringiore's unhealthy obsession with the gypsy's goat

"Notre Dame de Paris", better known by its English title "Hunchback of Notre Dame", suprised me with its applicability to the modern technological world. When I thought how unlikely events seemed and how painfully unsympathetic were most of the main characters, the story seemed poised to disappoint. But by the end I realized the fatal tragedy of the events and the effectiveness of Hugo's social commentary. All in all a wonderful book. It has inspired me to dig out Johnson's history of art to read again the history of gothic art. The book is more about architecture than about the hunchback, and events surrounding Claude Frollo, Quasimodo and Esmeralda seem to take a back seat to Hugo's passion for gothic architecture and its demise at the hands of modern "improvements".

What surprised me most was an analogy by Hugo that presages technological advances of today, in particular the internet. In Book V Hugo describes the revolutionary advance made by the printing press and how it replaced architecture as the historical language for human ideas: "The invention of printing is the greatest event in history. It is the mother of revolutions. It is humanity's mode of expression totally renewed, human thought discarding one form and putting on another... In the form of printing, thought is more imperishable than ever; it is volatile, elusive, indestructible. It blends with the air. In the time of architecture it became a mountain and took forceful possession of an age and a space. Now it becomes a flock of birds, scatters to the four winds and simultaneously occupies every point of air and space." If one did not know Hugo wrote this in the nineteenth century, one might easily think he was writing about the revolutionary nature of the internet as a vehicle for the expression of human ideas when compared to traditional publishing. Hugo calls printing "the second Tower of Babel of the human race." If he were still writing today, no doubt he might call the internet "the Third Tower of Babel."

I,m not claer on the concepts of justice on this book of Macintyre .I need someone help me the clearity.Please!

This so-called sequel to After Virtue is heavier in both its abstruse argumentation, erudition and physical mass. In many ways, it lacks the excitement and provocative character of After Virtue, and its contents are much more specialized. One can feel this particularly in the heavy treatment of Homer, Aristotle and Plato, which is neck-deep in linguistic hairsplitting over the precise meanings of Greek words. For those readers with scant interest in the classics, the first part of the book, despite its many gems, tries one's patience.

The overarching thesis of the book is sound nonetheless. To give a very basic outline, MacIntyre traces several traditions, broadly being the predominant Hellenist and Christian ones, before moving on to establish liberalism as its own tradition. Not every philosopher is give exhaustive or detailed treatment. Aristotle, Plato, Augustine, Aquinas, and Hume are the real stars here. The Scottish Enlightenment is dwelt upon in much detail to explain Hume, so other important philosophical movements such as British Empiricism, German Idealism, etc. are marginalized. Despite these omissions [the book is long enough as it is], the central thesis coheres nicely and arrives at its conclusion in a most decisive manner.

Though MacIntyre's thesis that liberalism itself constitutes a tradition may seem tame, taken into proper perspective, it is actually quite revolutionary. Considering that modernity [à la Descartes] rejected all appeal to tradition and sought to construct a purely rational account of the human and his society and to, thereby, construct a utopian future applicable to all times and places, to claim that it is itself a traditional is a smack on the face that effectively historicizes the Enlightenment tradition. Therefore, justice and rationality-in other words what is proper action and what are the proper reasons for acting-must be understood through the historicized lens of the context of a specific tradition that any ethical discourse plugs into for its legitimacy.

The book concludes with a cogent discussion of the nature of traditions, their birth, evolution, death, and how we can understand the nature of our own beliefs as being a part of tradition. The key, determinant events in these narratives are `epistemological crises'. MacIntyre tries to makes the case that Thomism has hitherto best weathered the tests of time.

Why in the world did MacIntyre feel that he needed to provide a sequel to After Virtue, his magnum opus? Well, as he states in his introduction, his moral system demands a fuller account of rationality and justice. He gives a detailed historical exposition of justice and rationality in Homeric Greece, Plato, and Aristotle then moving on to Augustine, Aquinas, and the Scottish Enlightenment. The retelling of each of these viewpoints' ideas on justice and rationality are lucid and breathtaking at times if you can stand MacIntyre's rather wordy writing style.

So how, in his mind, does his account of rationality and justice 'win?' It seems automatic to seek some purely objective standard by which to weigh the arguments of each of these specific systems, but as MacIntyre points out, the mere idea of a purely objective standard is deeply embedded in the Enlightenment tradition: a tradition which MacIntyre showed in "After Virtue" to be seriously flawed. Instead, the system first must be internally coherent but second, and more importantly, must overcome epistimological crises that it faces. A certain system gets into trouble if a rival system can better resolve the epistimological crises facing it. MacIntyre thinks that the Aristotelian tradition, especially as embedded in Thomism, 'wins' by this account. While the sense of victory is not as obvious as in After Virtue, I think that MacIntyre has a coherent and reasonably compelling argument in his favor.

This book can be read in isolation, but is best read after reading After Virtue, giving you a clearer idea of the problem that MacIntyre is addressing.

This is a review of _Whose Justice? Which Rationality?_ by Alasdair MacIntyre.

This is a very challenging book to read, but also one that will deepen your thinking about the world, whether you agree with it or not.

We largely take it for granted that (1) people disagree significantly about a wide range of issues related to ethics, and that (2) people do not agree about enough standards of rationality to resolve these ethical disagreements. MacIntyre puts this by saying that "logical incompatibility and incommensurability" both obtain (p. 351). What conclusion should we draw from these facts? One common response is relativism, which is roughly the view that the truth or falsity of a claim depends on the perspective from which it is evaluated. However, MacIntyre argues against relativism based on a brilliant reinterpretation of several major Western philosophical traditions.

The Western Englightenment (of which Descartes is paradigmatic), rejected appeals to tradition, canonical texts and authority, and attempted to put in their place the "appeal to principles undeniable by any rational person," and hence independent of culture, history, etc. "Yet both the thinkers of the Enlightenment and their successors proved unable to agree as to what precisely those principles were which could be found undeniable by all rational persons" (p. 6). Since the Enlightenment, most Western thinkers have either (1) continued to search for principles that are universally acceptable to all minimally rational humans (and continued to fail in this quest), or (2) given up on the quest for universal principles of reason, but -- paradoxically -- continued to assume the Enlightenment prejudice that any rational justification would have to be universal, ahistorical, and acultural.

MacIntyre suggests that neither approach has learned the lesson of the failure of the Enlightenment project, which is that any rational justification has to be parochial, historical and in a particular cultural context.

Since rational justification must be historical, the bearers of justification are not "theories" in the abstract, but embodied traditions. MacIntyre examines four sample traditions in this book (although he admits there are many more): the Aristotelian-Thomistic, the Augustinean, and those of the "Scottish Enlightenment" and modern liberalism.

Traditions like these can undergo "epistemological crises": situations in which a tradition, by its own standards, increasingly discloses "new inadequacies, hitherto unrecognized incoherences, and new problems for the solution of which there seem to be insufficient or no resources within the established fabric of belief" (p. 362). A tradition may find a way to survive such a crisis (as Thomas Aquinas helped Christianity to do by synthesizing Augustineanism and Aristotelianism), but it may also fail. And because the possibility of failure is there, relativism is false: a tradition can come to see that its claims are false even by its own standards.

Even if my tradition is not in an obvious crisis, I can realize that I have a rational justification for rejecting or modifying it. Suppose I am confronted with an alien intellectual tradition which is both incompatible and incommensurable with my own. Because the two are incompatible, I cannot simply agree with both traditions. But because of incommensurability, I cannot directly convince the adherents of the rival tradition that they are wrong (nor can they directly convince me). I can, however, learn to be "bilingual" in the two traditions. The Aristotelian can learn, for example, to "speak Confucian," as it were. Having done so, he occupies a special perspective, from which he may conclude that the Confucian worldview offers a superior interpretation of the strengths and weaknesses of his own tradition. Or he may conclude the opposite. Or he may conclude that some sort of synthesis is possible, which is superior to either one individually. For this reason also, relativism is not true, despite the fact that traditions are, when speaking one to the other, incommensurable: someone occupying one tradition *can* see that his views are fundamentally mistaken.

MacIntyre argues that, of the four traditions he considers in this book, three have entered inescapable epistemological crises, while one (the tradition of Thomas Aquinas) has answered all challenges so far. The bulk of the book is a history of the four traditions. If you want to get the outline of MacIntyre's view, I recommend chapters 1 (the intro), 7-8 (on Aristotle), 9 (on Augustine), 10-11 (on Aquinas's synthesis), 16 (on Hume), 17 (on liberalism), and 18-20 (MacIntyre's grand theory).

This is, of course, an easier book to read if you have read some previous philosophy (Thomas Kuhn's _The Structure of Scientific Revolutions_ is in the background of much of what MacIntyre says, even though he doesn't cite Kuhn very often), but a bright, motivated non-philosopher can read and greatly enjoy this book too.

In another cogent examination of contemporary moral philosophy, Alasdair MacIntyre examines moral philosophies from the perspective of their bases. He points out the critical need to remember which frame of thought we are speaking in.

This football game is still referred to in football lore and often by television commentators as the famous "10 - 10 tie". In the old days before BCS, who was "number 1" was determined in a variety of ways - usually polls by sports writers, and by coaches. And when #1 and #2 play each other at the end of the season - with legendary coaches (Ara Parsigan and Duffy Daugherty) - then play to a tie - and both send so many superb players on to the NFL,----- well it was a game to be seen and remembered.

The book captures the era of football in the early 60-s -- I was at the game and in college (MSU) at the time - and it is a great book for the pre-baby boomers, as well as the earliest of the boomers. College football had been changing, and continued to change, and this is an excellent snapshot of football and the times before all the Vietnam unrest.

My only problem with the book is that the author is, of course, pro Notre Dame, so some of his interpretations are subject to some questioning...... However, despite this flaw - it is a wonderful book for college football fans of this era.

Remember - Duffy said, having a tie was like kissing your sister! And also remember that the qb was knocked out by Bubba Smith and the runner injured himself getting off the train!!!!

This game is a major source of the rivalry between Southern Cal and ND, as ND had one more game - and ran the score up on SC. Interestingly, MSU and ND split the polls and each one received a first place.

MSU and ND remain a fantastic rivalry.

As a kid I remember listening to the end of this game on the radio. I couldn't remember why I didn't see it on TV until I read in this book that, because Notre Dame had already played in the maximum allowable nationally televised games that year, it could only be broadcast regionally--meaning those of us in the Pacific Northwest were denied live TV coverage (it was shown tape delayed here and in the South).

My recollection had always been that Ara Parseghian, the Notre Dame coach, went for a tie with a field goal late in the game rather than going for a touchdown--but this book corrected my recollection. Notre Dame tied the game with a field goal at the end of the third quarter and later narrowly missed what would have been a winning field goal with about 5 minutes left to play.

It turns out Parseghian was blamed for running the ball up the middle when they got it back deep in their own territory with less than a minute-and-a-half to play rather than trying to throw for a touchdown or to get in field goal range. But surprisingly no one blamed Michigan State Coach Duffy Daugherty for punting the ball away on 4th-and-four on their own 36-yard line with just 1:24 left to play.

I also didn't remember that Notre Dame's star quarterback, Terry Hanratty, left the game for good after their first possession with a dislocated shoulder, or that their star halfback Nick Eddy didn't play at all. All these years, like many fans, I unfairly blamed Parseghian for failing to win (and failing to play to win)this game.

But like Dempsey and Tunney's "Long Count," this is one of those games that is remembered primarily because of that controversy and because a game intended to decide who was No. 1 left that question unanswered.

I found this book to be very interesting as I compared the times detailed here (mid-1960's) to today. Society has changed in many ways, but the intense competition on the field is nothing new!

The author, as a Notre Dame alumnus, tends to bring the Irish point of view into his narrative, especially in regards to the fallout of Ara's decision at the end of the game, but this is a minor flaw and I enjoyed the book very much. If you are at all interested in the history of college football, and historic moments, this book is for you.

If you're a Michigan State or Notre Dame football fan, this book is a must-read. Celizic does a great job of describing the mounting anticipation and excitement in both South Bend and East Lansing throughout the fall of 1966. More than the game itself or the mood on the campuses, the book has some fantastic biographical information on the teams' stars, such as Terry Hanratty and Charlie "Mad Dog" Thornhill. Read this book in August and you'll get excited about the upcoming college football season or the MSU/ND match, which is usually a fantastic game.

I gave this book a 4 star rating as it is a very interesting and highly readable book. Walls, being an Arminian, often turns the discussion from hell into a refutation of Calvinism. I had no issue with this as it did pertain to the Calvinist view of damnation but I can see how this book would be highly problematic for a committed Calvinist looking to understand the logic of damnation and not hear about how their theology fails at so many key points. I must say Walls is very open minded about alternative views of hell, and gives credit to many theologians when he deems their arguments compelling. Sometimes this book wanders a little too much, which is certainly common among philosophers, but all in all it is a very interesting look at the doctrine of hell. Walls does a good job at maintaining an even-handed, non-dogmatic approach the whole way through the book. If I were a fundamentalist, I would probably put this book down after the first chapter, but those with a reasonably open mind will thoroughly enjoy this book.

The book may indeed be 5 star worthy, but it is very confusing to me. I get the sense the author is defending the "reason" that there must be a hell, if indeed we know there is a heaven. Maybe I need to try to read this book when there is total quite and not the noise of kids, husbands and TV in the background. There are paragraphs where I have read over and over and still not grasping it.But it was a highly recommended book, so I will keep trying.If and when I do understand it I will edit my rating. LOL :)

This book opened my eyes to the reality not only of hell, but paradoxically, of "God's Goodness". Indeed, God is good, wise, and all powerful. Such Truth was cleared in this writing.

Hell: The Logic of Damnation addresses the basic question as to whether the traditional Christian doctrine of hell can still be maintained with intellectual vigor. For Walls, the answer is affirmative, but he refuses to rely on cliche and convention to support his claim. Rather, the scholarly treatment of the topic is very logical, balanced, and coherent, drawing from a variety of sources, both historical and contemporary.

Walls lays out the main versions of the doctrine and evaluates their ability to address the main concern, namely, whether a doctrine of hell can be consistent with: 1) divine freedom, 2) human freedom, and 3) divine goodness. In this regard, he examines the issue in light of divine attributes and human nature. In the process, he gives a philosophical critique of Calvinistic predestination, offering Molinism as a viable alternative. Overall, he lays out a careful analysis that makes no assumptions, yet remains faithful to scripture. His conclusions are not dogmatic, and he remains focused on providing a philosophical basis for the rudimentary elements of the doctrine.

This is essential reading for theologians, clergy, and laity with an academic interest in the subject. The reader will leave the book satisfied that the key issues have been addressed and the intellectual integrity of the doctrine has been maintained.

Frederick C. Copleston is a master historian. His nine-volume A History of Philosophy is remarkable in its breadth, depth and analyticity, especially the volume on ancient Greek philosophy. However, Copleston's work A History of Medieval Philosophy, while being a good intro work is nevertheless very dry and difficult to read. The familiar objectivity and precision of the Jesuit is present in this book. But Copleston needed to add life to this work. That is the main "beef" I have with this history. That complaint notwithstanding, this is a great text. Copleston begins his coverage of the medieval period by showing the important connection between ancient Christianity and medieval thought. He then discusses such thinkers as John Erigena, Berengarius of Tours and Roscelin of Compiegne. He briefly recounts the controversies that the latter two individuals are known for (i.e. transubstantiation and tritheism) before turning to Anselm of Canterbury and Anselm of Heloise fame.

Maybe Copleston could have supplied more details in the aforementioned chapters and spared some unnnecessary details in other parts of the book. In any event, Copleston's history must be read by all those who are serious about medieval philosophy. It is the perfect place to initiate one's immersion into medieval thought.

In this book, one finds access to the world of medieval philosophy. The book does a great job of hitting the key ideas of numerous figures within medieval Christian philosophy and provides worthwhile chapters on philosphers from the Islamic and Judaic traditions as well. Additionally, the survey provides biographical sketches and historical background for the treatments of the key figures and periods.

Copleston's encyclopedia knowledge is brought to the forefront in this book which is essencially vols 2 and 3 of his Medieval Philosophy series united for the sack of presenting the era in a more unified and coherent manner.

For the most part Father Copleston S.J. makes each chapter interesting and a clear progress builds from one chapter to the next, even if the chapters are not arranged chronologically (such as with the chapters on Jewish and Muslim philosophy). The final chapter on Nicholas of Cusa argues intelligently for the fact that he should be concidered neither a Medieval, nor a Renaissance figure but belonging very clearly to the watershed age between the two eras.

Surprisingly light on Aquinas, Copleston's history runs the full of the Middle Ages, from the classical philosophical influences to the patristic writings, Isidor of Seville and Cassiodorus, John Scotus Eriugena, the translators, Jewish and Muslim philosophers etc. If you want a great book on Aquinas (biography more that philosophy) look at Copleston's "Aquinas". Not that A Histor of M P neglect Aquinas, but given the overview nature of the book, Copleston is very selective and focuses on the influences on Aquinas and his contributions to later philosophy more than the whole Thomistic spirit.

The only place that it gets a little dry is with the later scholastics, Ockham and the discussion of the nature of language and logic which Copleston masterfully combines together and presents as the precursor of 20th century analytical philosophy and compares to Wittgenstein. Still, the nominalist chaper is quite slow and heavy reading due to the nature of the subject.

Copleston notes that in the introduction to the 1972 edition that he added and expanded significantly the sections on Jewish and Muslim philosophy so make sure you get a later edition.

Cheers,

Adam

Copleston's `History of Medieval Philosophy' has gone through several revisions, the first of which was in 1952 as part of Methuen's Home Study Books series. This is a text I used in a second-year philosophy course at my university. So often the study of philosophy jumps from the classical period of ancient Greece, with a bit of expansion in Rome and early Christian times, to the Renaissance, Enlightenment and more modern periods. The so-called `Dark Ages' are often ignored, but as Copleston's book will attest, there was plenty of activity, many prominent figures, and quite a significant development of philosophy through this period - as a link between the classical Greek/Roman period to the Renaissance, it could not help but to be of importance.

Copleston takes in the wide range of philosophical development. This does not focus exclusively on the Western philosophical tradition, although that is the primary subject matter. Copleston brings in material from the Islamic and Jewish philosophical traditions contemporary with the Western development - at the time, the Islamic culture was more advanced than that of Western Europe, and many significant advances in various disciplines were made in this civilisation.

Three chapters on ancient Christian thought (religious and philosophical) set the stage for the era; Neoplatonism was a dominant philosophical school, embrace by Augustine. Other notable figures of the period include Origen, Pseudo-Dionysius, and Boethius (although Copleston describes him as being `not of much originality'). After this examination of the ancient Christian times, he proceeds to the early Middle Ages, looking at the developments around the time of Charlemagne and the Carolingian Renaissance (an often overlooked historical period). John Scotus Erigena appears here, as the first eminent philosopher of the Middle Ages, according to Copleston.

From Scotus to Anselm and Abelard is a relatively `dry' period, which some activity, but not much development. However, in St. Anselm and Peter Abelard are first-rate philosophical minds, in very different casts. Anselm was much more the theologian; Abelard was more concerned with philosophical development that at certain periods might earn him the label of heretic.

Copleston devotes individual chapters each to the Twelfth Century Schools of philosophy, the Philosophy of Islam, and Jewish Philosophy of the time. In the twelfth century, there were many centres of learning - Oxford, Paris, Bologna, which developed as significant academic hubs (Oxford and Paris have continued with world reputations begun at this time). Islamic philosophy looks at figures such as Al-kindi of Baghdad (d. 870) and Al-Farabi (d. 950), who dealt with the religious/philosophical divide in different ways. Abu Ibn-Sina (Avicenna, in Christian writings) was possibly the most significant of Islamic philosophers, and much of his writing as survived. A Persian by birth, he was a Renaissance man with interests in sciences, philosophy, history, medicine and religion. Most famous to Christians of the time was probably Ibn-Rushd (Averroes), who was born in Islamic Spain, and through whom many of the Aristotle works were transmitted into the West.

Jewish thinkers of the time looked back to the figure of Philo, a great Jewish philosopher/historian from the time before the destruction of the Temple. Jewish thinkers of the time include Saadia ben Joseph, Isaac ben Solomon Israeli, Solomon ibn Gabirol, Abraham ibn Daud, and of course, Moses ben Maimon (Maimonides). Neoplatonism was a strong strand through most of these philosophers, derived from Philo and general philosophical traditions. Maimonides was addressing the concerns of most philosophers of the time of any religious or ethnic persuasion with his `Guide for the Perplexed', an attempt to reconcile religion with philosophy.

The `second half' of medieval philosophy takes place in response and reaction to the rediscovery of Aristotle's works, preserved by the Muslim culture. Thomas Aquinas is the strongest figure associated with this rebirth of Aristotilianism. Other figures, such as Duns Scotus (not to be confused with the earlier John Scotus), William of Ockham, Marsilius of Padua, and Nicholas of Cusa finish out the medieval period, in anticipation of later figures such as Descartes and Francis Bacon.

The medieval philosophical construct remained in the Western tradition we have inherited an expressly Christian one - the interplay between Plato and Aristotle took place on the stage of the dialectical relationship of church and state, church and academia, and faith vs. knowledge. Developments would continue, and indeed still continue to this day, on all these fronts.

Jean-Francois Six has given Therese back to the world. As a Carmelite contemplative living at the end of the 19th century, Therese was in the midst of a cultural and spiritual revolution as Faith began to give way to Doubt and Cynical Skepticism. Her struggle was to remain faithful to her mystical devotion to Christ in the midst of a world eager to find new, and even more dubious, devotions. Her solution: if you can't beat them, join them; not by discarding faith, but by allowing the full force of doubt to fill and break her heart in order to understand and feel kinship with the doubting world around her, making her an even greater Saint than the revised, silly, "canonized" version given by her sister, Mother Agnes, and the Church. Her courage was to stare down the night in loving trust that there would be a dawn...somehow. Whether you understand or agree with Therese's spirituality, you cannot help but admire her mature and courageous faith and her simple belief in the power of Love. This book takes her down off the altars and solidly in our hearts, where she would most want to be...

Father Six has rescued Therese from the excessive sentimentality foisted on the world by her sister Pauline (Mother Agnes) and the Lisieux Carmel. He has shown us the real Therese, a giant of the spiritual life. By showing how even the change of one word by Pauline altered the meaning of her work, we are able to finally arrive at a portrait of Therese that is true. Her emphasis on love which is the core of her teaching is given its proper place by Father Six's reinterpretation. This is a valuable book for those who wish to experience the real Therese.

St. Therese's famous and flowery autobiography, Story of a Soul, was so heavily edited by her sister Pauline (Mother Agnes of Jesus), that it could be considered more Pauline's views of the future Saint's theology than St. Therese's, herself. After reading it, I was left still searching for Therese, herself, and her beliefs and theology. How did she become such a great Saint, so favored by Jesus?

Light of the Night, flawed by the author's anger at his rejection by the established Lisieux hierarchy, helped me to better understand Therese's depth, which was and is considerable. I found it to be quite helpful to me on my quest to understand St. Therese and her process.

Jean-Francois Six shows you how St. Therese's sister editd The Story of A Soul and how it changes crucial elements of the saint's theology. It also covers the "touch-ups" of the saint's photographs. But the most provocative portion of the book points out how the saint died in the "dark night of the soul"..