The artwork in the book is beautiful. But, of course! It's all classic depictions by great artists. I'm still curling my lip, however, that Botticelli's The Birth of Venus has a two-page spread. Why would that make me curl my lip? Because the crease goes right through the main subject of the painting.
Made me very sad.
Such a lovely collection of art, though.
I got frustrated with the quotes. Some Milton (a lot of Milton), some others. These quotes filled in small spaces here and there, but mostly they just distracted me from reading. I decided to read them all first, and then read the text. I did that; I still had to see "which quote that was" when I came to a page.
The writing isn't as good as I'd expect from Carey, and I was even gearing my expectations toward "informative" rather than "narrative." I got a little frustrated with hinted-at depths to angel stories that there just wasn't room for here. Because there just wasn't room here, I can't fault it. And it did pique my interest; I just have no idea where to go to sate the particular interests.
I enjoyed Carey's information on the fallen angels more than the unfallen ones. Mostly, though, that's because I knew far less about them, from this angle. "This angle" being from someone who's written a fantasy series with a creation myth centered around fallen angels. That was fanscinating, and that there was so little made me sigh a lot.
Again, though, can't fault Carey for that; it wasn't the kind of book that left room for digging down deep into things.
In the end, loved looking over the art, but as for the text, I'd've much preferred an unillustrated book where Carey could have on and on---only, hopefully, without so many exclamation points! It's not that there were so many. It's that each of them made me feel like I was being addressed as if I were a group if nine-year-olds.