Once more philosophy defeats me. I can't think of much I wouldn't do to keep from reading this giant heap of dullness again. The only spark of interest I had in the whole thing was the continual wondering of which was worse: the text, or the accompanying analysis by Kenneth A. Telford. They seemed equally long and incomprehensible, but I'm opting to give the prize to Telford. Why?

When I picked this up, in a second hand bookshop (damned if I'm paying full price for philosophy, I may be stubborn enough to keep trying it but I'm not entirely stupid) I picked out this particular edition from the mound of copies people were trying to get shot of because, at the bottom of the cover, it said "Gateway Edition". I took that to mean it was supposed to be a gateway to Aristotle, something to actually encourage you to read and understand him. Well, my fellow reviewers, let me give you a random paragraph opener from the accompanying analysis and explanation:

"The three antecedent causes of the imitating process, in conjunction but not separately, serve as differentiae of this process by which an a priori classification of works of art into species can be effected." (p. 74)

If you know what the hell this means, you are a more attentive and intelligent reader than I, and more power to you. For my part, both portions of this book read as if they were more interested in sounding intelligent than communicating intelligence. Very occasionally there was a spark of clarity from either party, but it was rare and far between, buried under pompousness, pedantry, and the prosiest prose that ever prosed.

Never again.