ism's most important philosopher. This essay could be assigned to undergraduates in a course on medieval Jewish philosophy, but more advanced students will learn something from it as well. Also worthy of mention are Sarah Pessin's discussion of Jewish Neoplatonism and Charles Manekin's treatment of Gerson ides, both of which also manage to speak to a wide range of readers. In both these essays, the authors have been careful to explain basic concepts while also offering advanced insights into their material. However, some of the essays are not really introductory. Thus, for instance, Joel Kramer's essay on the Islamic context of medieval Jewish philosophy is a valuable piece, but it assumes too many concepts for it to be of use to those not already familiar with Greek philosophy. To some extent, the problem being raised here reflects the ambiguity in the term 'companion' in the book's title. What exactly is a 'companion'? Is it truly introductory as Frank and Leaman claim? Or is it meant to 'accompany' the student who already has significant grounding in the field? In truth, this ambiguity plagues a number of other volumes in the Cambridge Companion sei;es, which contain essays written for a variety of levels with no clear indication of who the audience is. Still, despite this difficulty, Frank and Leaman's volume is a superb effort and is highly recommended for students and scholars alike. It will certainly become one of the standard reference works in the field. Robert Eisen (Department of'Religion) George Washington University Harry G. Frankfurt The Reasons of Loue. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press 2004. Pp. 101. US$19.95. lSBN 0-691-09164-1. This volume is a revised set oflectures recently given by Frankfurt. Its three chapters develop and elaborate several familiar Frankfurtian themes, including work on caring, loving, and the importance of our overall volitional structure as reflective, willing agents. These themes are discussed in the larger context of their contribution to our leading meaningful, fulfilled lives. In the first chapter, 'The Question: "How Should We Live"', Frankfurt (as in previous work) distinguishes between mere desiring and caring. He treats caring about x as involving an enduring, reflective endorsement of and commitment to a lower-order desire for x. Frankfurt suggests that we often simply find ourselves caring about certain objects (perhaps due to human 322 nature), and that such caring need not be a response to perceived value in the objects. That is, what we care about is often not chosen voluntarily; we instead find ourselves caring about certain objects (consider a parent's love for her child). More broadly, Frankfurt argues that there are no independent criteria by which we can answer the question of how we should live in a non-circular fashion (roughly as in order to establish the criteria by which we'd evaluate this question, we would already need to have determined how we should live otherwise, on what basis would we choose the criteria?). As such, we will need to look elsewhere and especially to what we do in fact value and care aboutin order to evaluate how we should live. Chapter Two, 'On Love, and Its Reasons', is devoted to characterizing a particular form oflove (itself a type of caring), one that Frankfurt believes is essential to leading a unified, meaningful 1ife. His paradigm example is again a parent's love for her child, though he suggests we could have such a love for abstract ideals (a love of truth, for example), a religious tradition, and so on. This love is marked by several features, including not being directly under our voluntary control (we cannot simply choose to love or not in this way), with a concern for the beloved (and its well-being) for its own sake, and involving an identification with the beloved taking on the interests of the beloved as our own. These are deep, enduring concerns that provide a framework for our lives. They provide us with final ends or goals, and we can shape our other desires, projects, and cares around them. Frankfurt again stresses that often we will simply find ourselves with such loves, but that they are no worse off for not being voluntarily or rationally chosen; instead, they are part of who we are as humans. Do we really need arguments to justify a parent's love for her child? It is thus against the backdrop of these foundational, often instinctual loves that we, as individuals, can properly balance our other values, desires, and projects (and not via some abstract set of 'objective' criteria about what constitutes a proper balancing for a good life). Finally, the third chapter, 'The Dear Self, focuses on self-love, and argues that such love (properly understood) is in fact a significant accomplishment. Love of oneself is a form of caring about oneself, one's desires, cares, and loves . Frankfurt argues plausibly that self-love is a particularly pure form oflove; after all, the lover's identification with the beloved is extensive and unforced, the lover desires the well-being of the beloved non-instrumentally, and so forth. Self-love also crucially involves a desire to love that is, since loving gives a foundation and meaning to our lives, to the extent that we love ourselves (and thus desire our own well-being), we will want to love. Further, to the extent that we are conflicted about what to love, or how to weigh our cares and loves, to that extent we are not wholehearted; our will is divided and can undermine itself. Such a lack of wholeheartedness impedes our ability to love ourselves, because we cannot fully embrace and endorse our loves. Thus a certain confidence in what we love, and having a unified will whereby we have clear endorsements of our loves, is an important component of self-love. 323 Frankfurt's discussion is generally quite lucid, and many of his proposals are plausible and insightful. Still, questions can be raised, particularly about the value of self-love and whole-heartedness. For example, Frankfurt is careful to stress that a wholehearted person need not be a fanatic; one may endorse one's loves while still giving attention to reasons to change them. But notice that while a wholehearted person isn't necessarily a fanatic, wholeheartedness and fanaticism are entirely compatible on Fraknfurt's view. A religious zealot who loves his religion, refuses to listen to others, and thus avoids self-doubt or any hesitancy would seem to be ful ly wholehearted, which in turn means that he would fully love himself, and that his life would be meaningful. This might seem plausible with respect to wholeheartedness but would such a life necessarily reflect self-love? Would it necessarily be meaningful (and not merely focused)? These seem to be open questions. Continuing in the same vein, couldn't a desire to question (and a con-esponding restraint) reflect a strong self-love, with a concern to find what is truly best for oneself to improve and refine oneself? Moreover, there seem to be no limits on the objects oflove. One could love counting blades of grass, refuse to reflect, endorse only this love, and thereby lead a wholehearted, meaningful life. While such a person might be focused, and perhaps content, it will strike many as implausible to suggest that such a life is meaningful. To the extent that wholeheartedness is compatible with (and indeed, seems easiest to attain via) a lack of reflection and instead a blind endorsement and acceptance of what. one loves, it seems open to question as an ideal. While at points more detailed argument and explanation would be welcome, the book's significant strengths lie in the insights and proposals articulated by Frankfurt. Written by a leading philosopher in the field, The Reasons of Love is a thought-provoking work that should appeal to those interested in love, practical reasoning, and questions concerning the good life, broadly construed. Jason Kawall Colgate University