Shattuck's book, calling for moderation and humility in our pursuits of knowldege, embodies its own contradiction -- a far-reaching and erudite treatise on the necessity of maintaining limits. Each of the individual essays has much to recommend it but as a whole, his enterprise took me aback. His learned discussions on Milton, Madame de la Fayette, and de Sade (despite his obvious reluctance to engage such a subject -- he puts off the literary analysis of Sade's works as long as possible) are refreshing -- few authors in modern times have seriously questioned the epistemological bases by which we order of lives and labors, let alone trace its intellectual history. He does an especially admirable job discussing the positive aspects of taboo in Dickinson and de la Fayette -- he helps us to appreciate that personal restraint does not always mean uptight prudery. Yet, his book is also unsettling as well. Shattuck's argument could be taken as a justification for anti-intellectualism (people may feel that any mental effort beyond MTV is "beyond their limits") and his belief that we should "know our limits" leads one to ask: how can those limits be established and who has the power to do so? (the scientific decision on limiting research into recombitant DNA notwithstanding, the question remains: do all fields of human endeavor needs limits and, especially in subjective fields as such as the humanities, can we really encourage restraint on creativity?) Shattuck's own far reaching literary exploration belies his own cautioning against curiousity and, even though I can respect his ambivalence toward progress (which is one aspect of modernism), his suggestions appear insubtantial rather than practical. Modern science may be creating new Frankensteins and Hydes that we'll have to face in the future but I think the greater problem to face is a lack of curiosity: growing illiteracy, social nihilism, the deadening influence of mass media on our conscience, and increasing apathy to art, literature, science, and politics by increasing numbers of people. Shattuck's eloquent book speaks intelligently of one potentially dangerous human tendency - overweening thrist for knowledge - but he fails to resolve the contradictions in his own presentation as well as the opposite situation: do we really want curiosity and imagination to be discouraged and inflexible limits to be placed upon us? Shattuck the moralist may want this but Shattuck the literary scholar keeps demonstrating the opposite. This dazzling work of literary criticism (one of the few genuinely readable pieces of lit. crit. in a long while) defeats its own argument: Shattuck's book is just too smart and intellectually alive to believe that intellectual limits are a good thing.