From Publishers Weekly
In his brief and rather sketchy guide to the history and enduring attraction of labyrinths and mazes, McCullough (
Brooklyn and How It Got That Way) shows how the labyrinth—"a single uninterrupted circuitous path leading to a center"—differs from the maze, a puzzle made up of numerous forks that demands choices for its successful navigation. McCullough traces the evolution of the labyrinth form from its obvious starting place—the Cretan myth of the Minotaur—to its Christianized appearance in European cathedrals such as Chartres. Citing various interpreters of the Minotaur myth, from Homer to Robert Graves, McCullough suggests the original Cretan labyrinth may have owed its design to a whirling erotic dance performed on a specially marked floor. He races on to describe the crude outdoor labyrinths made of earth and stone that appear across northern Europe, outlining some of their folkloric associations. Turning his attention to the origins of the maze, McCullough evokes the 16th-century fashion for landscape gardening, with its craze for so-called "knot gardens" and hedged mazes. He ends with a rambling series of glimpses into the contemporary "maze craze," profiling New Age enthusiasts who use labyrinths in prayer and some of the foremost commercial maze designers. Although he packs his story full of information, McCullough's historical and anthropological accounts can feel slight and simplistic. Illus.
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From Booklist
The enigmatic labyrinth, from which the mythical hero Theseus rescued Ariadne from the Minotaur, inveigles people even today. McCullough takes a leisurely chronological ramble through the designs and meanings invested in labyrinths, starting with the puzzle Theseus confronted on Crete, continuing with a great Egyptian labyrinth Herodotus reported visiting, and extending to floor labyrinths in Gothic cathedrals, hedge labyrinths in England, and more. Geographically widespread, the design is distinct from a maze; as McCullough explains, it has a single path toward a center, whereas a maze is filled with dead ends. Because of its aspect of journeying toward something, the labyrinth has been endowed with a spiritual significance: Is that why the utopian socialist communities set up in nineteenth-century America had them? The author declines to draw a conclusion while admitting he has felt a sense of introspection in the hundreds he has visited. McCullough also discusses history, appearance, and mojo, producing a light amalgam of serious and frivolous fads in the story of the labyrinth.
Gilbert TaylorCopyright © American Library Association. All rights reserved
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