To my mind, the "Introducing..." series is not so much a useful way of becoming acquainted with a writer as a delightful way of reviewing a writer already met. In advance of reading Rousseau, Nietzsche or Freud, for example, you will find the short summaries of their work encapsulated in a graphic layout deficient for any practical purpose and demeaning to your education and self-respect. Do you really want to admit that you first learned about the greats of the past by reading a "graphic"--i.e., comic-book--version? But once having read this or that work of a writer, or a smattering of works, you will find it entirely appropriate to refresh your knowledge of what you have read, to fill in the gaps of what you have not and to prove to yourself, and maybe to others, that you are not a stodgy old pedant by picking up one of these popularizations. Also, without having read anything by the writer beforehand, you cannot adequately judge the presentation of his work and the humor of the drawings in an "Introducing..." edition, which in the case of INTRODUCING KAFKA attain the level of brilliance.
INTRODUCING ROUSSEAU, however, is another story. The narrative of Dave Robinson ably simplifies the extraordinary life and work of Jean-Jacques Rousseau, analyzes his sometimes contradictory positions (particularly in THE SOCIAL CONTRACT) and pays tribute to his amazing originality, which was born of his alienation, solitude and protracted reflection, and presaged the French Revolution, the Age of Romanticism, the "progressive" education of children (Pestalozzi and Montessori) and even certain perspectives of Post-Modernism (Foucault); but the drawings of Oscar Zarate, accompanying the text, fail to charm and even tend to turn you off. There is wit in them (for example, Rousseau sitting naked at his desk and baring his soul in the CONFESSIONS), but the artist has chosen to portray all of his figures as mannikins, puppets or paper-doll cutouts, a device that becomes boring and insipid long before the end of 173 pages. Even worse, once having made his main ink portrait of Rousseau (page 5)--a cadaverous, lipless and bewigged skull-like bust of a man who historical portraits reveal to have been full-faced, full-lipped and handsome, Zarate reproduces it on every occasion when Rousseau is summoned forth to make a statement (pages 6, 12, 13, 18, 25...). This horrible head, shrunken down or blown up, is repeated 20 times throughout the book, and all the other drawings, both of Rousseau and his contemporaries, are photo-reproduced so often you feel cheated. It's almost enough to make you agree with the paranoid "citizen of Geneva" that people planned to malign and disfigure him after his death, but more likely he was simply short-changed. Not recommended--either for introduction or review.
I doubt I can do Jean-Jacques Rousseau "credit" with this attempt of a "review." If complex, intriguing, and enigmatic personalities are your cup of tea -- coupled with a genuine appreciation of the 18th-century Enlightement Period -- then this book is for you.
Reading of his youthful exposure of his backside to a group of young aristocratic girls in Turin made me laugh. A disappointment was reading of his prescribed religionist sentiment (Deisim) in "The Social Contract," wherein he -- to my shock -- promoted intolerance of atheism and that nonbelievers should be put to death (he later regretted this final chapter of "The Social Contract" and tried to suppress it). Another disappointment concerned his relationship to his children.
This book is loaded with information on the man and his thoughts. It is an excellent and wonderful "introduction" to Jean-Jacques Rousseau -- and actually more than an introduction, as the book very adequately touches on the salient points and major (and some minor!) events of this man's life. It's a very solid biography.
Of particular interest is contrasting Rousseau's ::artistic:: personality (sentiments and moods) alongside of his contemporary "Philosophes" such as Voltaire and Diderot. My impression is that Rousseau discovered, by himself, methods of what would today be termed ::meditation::, and he also seems to have come to know the essences of Yin and Yang, though of course he'd probably never heard of those concepts. His artistry and nature-appreciating soul was primarily what set him apart -- fascinatingly -- from his contemporaries.
I'm now reading "The Confessions" online. I was sad to finish the book, and can't yet put it away; I'm skimming certain sections again. Rousseau certainly touched me, despite my marked disagreement with him in certain areas.
