For those like me who are going into this book without being familiar with Artaud the preface will be invaluable. Underneath the veneer of derangement that it is hard to not look past there is a beautifully elucidated and powerful/creative/even optimistic desire to redeem life that is beyond words and which lends to his mental decline a martyrdom for mankind. A refusal to accept defeat (or to even acknowledge the existence of defeat.) Artaud is an invaluable resource to those who wish to look into the depths of consciousness unrestrained and an eerie premonition towards those who wish to find that wellspring of creativity from which true art comes forth. ( )

Absolutely essential, even if you don't care for theatre (I once did - my advanced degrees are in theatre). This is worth owning simply because the various pieces make up what can only be looked at as a peculiarly 20th-century spiritual autobiography: Artaud seems at times to contain within his poor suffering head and heart absolutely every malady and wrong of that sickening and wonderful century. The pain level alone makes this difficult to read ... but worth it.

Of course I could be projecting. You decide. ( )

Artaud is the whole point. It's because I hate him and I'm building an arsenal against him shelf by shelf and I'm turning nothing over to him. He is an eatereatereatereater. ( )

Actual title: Antonin Artaud: Man of Vision. by Bettina Knapp