I picked this up because I read his book on martyrdom (The Purple Crown). This is entirely different. Wow. Is this really the same writer? A book that criticizes modern accounts of romantic love, is very philosophical but entirely accessible to even the novice philosophy reader. It is an ugly little book meant to expose the limits of our understanding of what constitutes love. I say ugly because there is nothing beautiful, good and true within it, but I imagine that was intentional. And, therefore, this book, as a critique against both pop culture and the limitations of philosophy itself, rings so truthful.