James Joyce once quipped that he wrote Ulysses to keep the critics busy for three hundred years. Given that work's length and notorious complexity, we can safely predict that Joyce scholars will not be short of work for at least a few generations to come. Some philosophers have also managed to secure a long afterlife for themselves, similarly employing the Joycean strategies of sheer volume and difficulty (think of Heidegger and Denida) to create an ongoing cottage industry of exegetes, interpreters, and under-laborers required as basic guides through their primary texts.If Richard Roity's work continues to survive and flourish in the arena of professional philosophy, it will not be for these reasons. His writing is clear and elegant, utterly shorn of fussy, jargon, and any motivated graduate student could easily work through his published books and major articles in a good summer. No: Roity's contributions will live on because, in sum, he articulates what has mattered in and cultural politics in the last century like no other humanistic intellectual, all the while helping us to think about who we are and what we might do with our lives in a strikingly original fashion. Given the accessibility of his work, accordingly, the best introduction to Rorty is Rorty himself. But the second best introduction would be to read Ronald Kuiper's new book, published in Bloomsbury's Contemporary American Thinkers series.In any slim, introductory account of a serious thinker's work, questions of what to include or exclude are always particularly urgent. In this case, Kuiper's decision to say more about fewer topics, rather than offer a superficial gloss of many, is a wise one. Rorty was simply involved in too many conversations with too many interlocutors to cover them all responsibly, so despite how fascinating Roity's exchanges with other contemporary thinkers were (from Norris to Habermas, Taylor to Putnam), coverage of these debates was quite rightly left on the cutting-room floor.This is not to say, however, that Kuipers does not situate Rorty within the traditions of American pragmatism and analytic philosophy. On the contrary, the task of clarifying Roity's philosophical relationships with Dewey, Sellars, Quine, and Davidson is, in many respects, the central task and the greatest accomplishment of this volume. To pull thus off, Kuipers approaches Rorty's work both chronologically and thematically. This blend of tactics allows him to provide cusp, yet surprisingly detailed overviews of Philosophy and the Mirror of Nature and Contingency, Irony, and Solidarity in chapters 2 and 3 respectively, before considering Roity's philosophy of religion (chapter 4), and his ongoing reflections on truth, coming in the wake of Bjorn Ramberg's Davidsonian criticisms of his earlier, dismissive position (chapter 5). Kuipers begins, however, with an attempt to grasp Roity's philosophical labor through the lens of lus biography.While Rorty's autobiographical essay, Trotsky and the Wild Orchids, furnishes an important, first-hand account of lus early interests, and functions as a helpful back story to his mature philosophical positions, much of Kuiper's opening chapter is a gloss of Neil Gross's sociological case study of how Roity's intellectual shaped lus formation as a professional philosopher. The crystallization of his self-concept helps to explain Roity's turn away from tecluucal, analytical after the publication of Philosophy and the Mirror of Nature toward his later free ranging pragmatism and Ins ongoing interventions within cultural politics, broadly understood. But as Kuipers argues, following Gross, Roity's shift is neither as dramatic nor as unexpected as it might superficially appeal', given what we know of his adolescent world-view and the decisive influence exerted upon lus young mind by lus leftist parents, who exposed young Bucky (their pet-name for Richard) to the turbulent world of New York intellectuals and radicals in the 1940s. …