The most valuable part of the book is the extensive introduction. There are some old favorites in the generous amount of translation: al-Ghazali, the philosopher who wrote "The Collapse of the Philosophers"; the mystic al-Hallaj, brutally executed for heresy; and the traveler ibn Battutah. But the introduction contains the only account I have read of per-Islamic Arabian literature, poetic and taletelling traditions which, though altered by the Qu'ran, persist to this day. Lichtenstadter also offers the most lucid explanation of the Qu'ran that I have seen, arguing that the surahs evolved chronologically, changing style and even purpose, much as Elaine Pagels argued that the discrepancies between the Gospels reflect different relations between the emerging Christian faith with the gentiles and with the Jewish community. In the earliest period, Muhammad called upon distinct parts of nature to witness the truth of what he says, as he sought to establish his vision. As people accepted that vision, the surahs became more didactic, teaching the attentive believers through hymns and stories. After the secure establishment of the community of faith, Muhammad turned toward its needs, and the surahs became legislative, revealing the law by which humans should live as Muslims, without neglecting questions of faith. Liechtenstadter is also good at tracing out the effects of the Qu'ran's position as the truth on the thinking and writing that followed, as the community of faith struggled to find answers to questions not clearly answered by that admittedly difficult book. Where that quest took them is discussed though with unfortunate brevity: the early traditions of the prophet's sayings, exhaustively criticized by Muslim scholars according to provenance; the development of the legal system; the mystical Sufic tradition; and, most interesting, that series of penetrating thinkers who balanced inquiry with faith--the men who saved Western knowledge so that the West would find it again, and where possible, extended it.