I've long been fascinated with the music of Charles Ives (though admittedly I prefer his milder efforts, which he--and this author--think less highly of), so, on seeing a recommendation of this biography, I decided to tackle it. It helped me understand his appeal to me and gave me a much more profound understanding of his music. He is, like the three characters in my own doctoral dissertation (in American religious history, not music history) what I call a "boundary" figure, one who doesn't fit neatly in any of the categories people are tempted to put him in. I had thought of him as a prototypical "American" composer. (How religious leaders, like many composers of the late 19th and early 20th centuries, reflected national cultures was another focus of my academic work.) But this author shows that that is not really an accurate perception of Ives; he was more driven by the particularities of his coming of age in a small New England city but at the same time had a more universalist, more "Romantic" vision. He was also seen, in the 1920s and '30s, as one of the "Ultra-Modernist" composers, like Varese, Henry Brant, and others, but, while he joined forces with them, his music was not really of a piece with theirs (he thought all music was "program music," that there was no such thing as "pure" or abstract music), and he disdained the more Americanist composers, such as Aaron Copland, as soft. Yet this author repeatedly claims that, at his peak of productivity, he was composing in a way that was totally new, that nobody else--not Stravinsky nor Schoenberg nor anyone else--was yet using dissonance the way he was. I'm not equipped to know if that claim is exaggerated, but I'm inclined to accept it. The book also corrected a couple of misperceptions I brought to it. I had thought of Ives as a mostly untutored composer, something like William Billings from 150 or so years earlier. But the author shows how well trained he was and how complex his music is technically. (I had not really understood the technical challenges it presents to performers.) I also had grossly underestimated his success as a business man. (He used his fortune to try to get his music performed, discovering along the way that theater pit orchestras that he paid to try out his music handled it better than top-level professional orchestras.) So, all in all, I very much appreciated this biography even if it bogged down occasionally, especially at the height of Ives's creativity, when it becomes a series of analyses of his individual compositions, much of which was over my head, and not all that interesting even when it wasn't. In a later chapter the author gets too bogged down in Ives's political rantings, and, still later, gives us more detail than necessary about all the early performances of his work. A couple of favorite quotes I failed to record and can't find now: One about his 6-year-old daughter saying that she loved to hear the piano keys being washed because it reminded her of her Daddy's music! Another noted how Ives's father--a bandmaster, music teacher, and choir director--would, as an ear training exercise, have his choirs sing in one key while he accompanied in another key. Charles himself devised polyrhythmic exercises for himself at the keyboard: "in the left hand a 5--with the left foot, beat a 2--with the right foot, beat a 3--with the right hand, play an 11--and sing a 7." Just 2 against 3 is enough of a challenge for man of us!