Product Description

Whereas the highly acclaimed first volume of Ray Monk's biography focused on Bertrand Russell's achievements in philosophy and his often tortured relations with friends and lovers, this volume has at its centre the tragic and deeply moving story of Russell's relationship with his first son, John. That story, until now largely untold, traces Russell's joy at John's birth to his frightened dismay at John's collapse into schizophrenia. Russell had fervent hopes that education and parenthood could produce an 'independent, fearless and free' generation that would transform society, of which John would provide a leading example. In John's decline can also be seen Russell's disappointment at the difficulty of the reform of society. By describing the private as well as the public sides of Russell's life, this book at last does justice to the complexities of one of the most extraordinary men of the twentieth century.

Product Details

• Amazon Sales Rank: #452995 in Books
• Published on: 2001-10-04
• Original language: English
• Binding: Paperback
• 592 pages

A.S. Byatt, Daily Telegraph
'Ray Monk is the best biographer of thinkers I know’

Sunday Telegraph
‘Monk’s Russell is, in its seriousness, its intelligence and sheer narrative drive, one of the outstanding biographies of our time’

The Times
‘Monk’s study of the great British philosopher is a terrific read…Compelling’

Customer Reviews

Make your own mind up
Having read Ray Monk's biographies on Wittgenstein and the early Russell, one can not but be amazed at the vivid recreation of the lives of these two entralling figures in philosophy. The work and care that has gone into providing the reader with an understanding from an all ready informed position is remarkable. One may come to these two philosophers with little or no background and learn a great deal, converserly an all ready detailed familiarity with the works can be supplimented by reading these biographies. That Ray takes a decidedly open position on Russell in his latter life can be read not as empathy towards the subject of his biography, but rather as a kind of disapointment. It is still open for the reader to form their own view however. This is especially true for those familiar with Russell as it is in facing contrasting positions that our own view can be invigorated. I look forward to hearing more from Ray Monk.

unashamed bias
I can only agree with the review below. A fan of Russell, I found the authors tactless disdain for his political views made the biography unreadable. From the first chapter's loaded title 'Fallen Angel' he goes on to diminish all of Russell non-philosophically related excursions - as if abstract philosophy is all that counts; real concerns, such as social justice, education etc don't seem to matter. The literary calibre of Russell's writing in his later years (which is consistently belittled by Monk) is purely a matter of conjecture; but I don't think Russell wasn't trying to create a romantic epic, and his style is neither here nor there when you consider what he is trying to put forward through content - to be politically effective you don't need to say something original or destroy someone else's ideas, as is often the case in philosophy; the author confuses this with lack of success.

Russell is one of the few intellectuals to come down from his ivory tower, to bridge the gap and take responsibility that his position as an intellectual endows... an example that is increasingly rare in 21st century intellectual communities: abstracted from social concerns, serving institutions rather than questioning them and alienating dissidents that don't conform to pre-established world perspectives. His sacrifice courage and commitment to social change is completely overlooked - his works have lucidly introduced me to ideas that have changed and sculpted my world perspective. Monk, however, rather sides with the opinion of his pre-1914 socialite friends: 'Bertie's become such a bore..." (or generally words to that effect) as if such opinions had any self-edifying truth to them.

a disappontment
As an interested and more than pleased reader of M. Monk's previous books on Wittghenstein and the younger Bertrand Russell, I was immensely disappointed and even upset by his sequel to the last one : 'Bertrand Russell - The Ghost of Madness'. That M. Monk avows in his introduction that he came to dislike the later Russell, as a human being and as a writer of moral, political an literary instead of philosophical works, is huis unalienable right, and it is to his credit that he takes the trouble to warn us about his somewhat prejudiced point of view. Come to think of it, the moment he realised that distaste whas perhaps the moment he should have stopped writing the book. But alas : nobody is perfect, as the man said. But he is really transgressing all conceivable borders of restraint and grossly overdoping his subjectivism in his chapters 'Russell's Viper' and 'The Guevarist Years'. I do not want to start a (per definition pointless) discussion about the Cuban missile crisis and the precise role of the antagonists involved, nor about Castro, Guevara, the Vietnam Tribunal and the role of the US in world politics. That is not the point, since, again, it is M. Monk's indisputable right as an individual to think about these matters and personalities as well he chooses. But in resolutely taking sides and in airing his personal convictions as unabashedly (and as one-sidedly - in this he does not give Russel nor his bête noire Schoenman an inch !) as ge does in these pages, he is resolutely donning the somewhat shabby hat of the mere political commentator or the downright pamfleteer, not the rightly honoured one of the careful historian-biographer. Reading his biography, I am interested in whar Lord Russell said, wrote and did, not in wether M. Monk thinks his saying, writing or doing so was foolish or wise. A biographer is, in my humble vieuw, someone who should tell us as objectively as possible what his subject was thibnking and doing at any given time. And just maybe even why. What he himself may eventually think of that subjects' thoughts and deeds is of absolutely no interest at all to anybody reading his book. As a historian myself, albeit not a proffessional one, I think I must warn future readers of this (in my eyes) grave deafult in a work like this.

Truly, I think it a pity that an undertaking that begun as promising as M. Monk's should in the end go so disastrously off the rails. Maybe he is right when he suggests somewhere that a philosopher should stick to ther thing he knows best, i. e. philosophy.

willem houbrechts - antwerp/belgium