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One of the few writers, if not the only one, who can publish a book within the oxymoronic subgenre of popular literary criticism, Harold Bloom's Genius is quite the work in itself, polished and multifaceted like a gem and yet retaining the charismatic grittiness of its author. As a perspective towards literature, it has been cleansed of what Bloom considers impurities, such as the ideological cant and jargon sometimes found in Marxist, feminist, or New Historicist critical theories, though he neglects the invaluable insights supplied by the best of their adherents. Instead of reading literature as rooted in cultural or historic specifics, Bloom argues that we should praise the classics as embodiments of universal genius. And, while Bloom acknowledges our ambivalence towards geniuses, who we both uphold and undermine, he asserts that our finest cultural artifacts should be engaged with because they provide the greatest opportunity to discover and augment our truest, deepest self. The representative works he idolizes -- Hamlet, Don Quixote, and the three major monotheistic religious texts are among the most beloved -- are streaked with the personalities of their creators, who saw themselves most clearly in relation to the world and were unrivalled in communicating their wisdom through language. While the subject matter of Genius might be impenetrable or without context except for those who can match Bloom's inestimable breadth of reading and contemplation, anyone with interest in literature will benefit to some extent from this admirably, cantankerously atavistic study of the greatest books ever written.