Moorcock is a writers writer, admired both for his popular vitality and his literary subtlety and as such he is more like Balzac or Zola than any modern novelist. The edition advertised here is the full text. Only the first American edition, as far as I'm aware, was very badly cut. The adventures of the anti-Semitic but very evidently Jewish Colonel Maxim Arturovitch Pyat, self-styled White Cossack officer and scientific genius, but actually a B-picture movie actor and con-man, lying, cheating and stealing his bizarre and somehow heroic way to the very gates of Auschwitz is an Everyman for the 20th century, denying the evidence of his own birth if necessary, trying to reinvent reality with every breath and at every turn reality descends upon him, as it does all who avoid it so thoroughly! This is a chilling comedy of our times in four long, fast-moving volumes, each independent in Moorcock's familiar popular style, but profoundly probing the origins of the Nazi Holocaust. There are few absolute heroes and villains in Pyat's eventful times, but many shades and combinations of both. Moorcock's deconstruction of modern myth figures is subtle and intelligent (look out for a youthful Stalin in Byzantium Endures) and when he gets to America in The Laughter of Carthage and Jerusalem Commands, keep your attention on those cameos and little notes in the margin. Moorcock has a Wagnerian habit of suddenly bringing up the leitmotif to colour and change your whole understanding of what you have experienced before. He is a master novelist, admired around the world, and these books, with Mother London, are his masterpieces. Every educated reader should at least have an informed opinion of them. They should be required reading, both for the vivid and accurate historical pictures they paint and for the example of the European moral tradition in fiction triumphantly alive and well in the hands of a man Angela Carter, Peter Ackroyd and many others among his peers have called the master storyteller of our times.