I think both of the New York reviewers were intimidated by the scholarly apparatus which is one of the most valuable things I found in the book. I think both would have been happy with something akin to the Paine version of the autobiography. That is not what this edition is about. It is about finding the keys to the inner workings of a creative mind -- and how that mind was constantly revealing itself (and in some cases trying to conceal itself) with little dabs of painted narrative that add up to a whole picture. The two reviewers call the book a "Royal Nonesuch" because they are not able to comprehend the larger picture and they think they have been hornswaggled by publicity. I'd be surprised if either reviewer spent time reading the annotations. I am reminded of the closing lines of Mark Twain's "A Fable" and the moral by the cat, "You can find in a text whatever you bring, if you will stand between it and the mirror of your imagination. You may not see your ears, but they will be there." Barb