Animals and Misanthropy by David E. Cooper (Routledge, 2018). ISBN 9781138295940

(p. 150). If we engage in this difficult task of attention and allow the world to move us, we will find that we are moved to act accordingly. Once one sees the terrified cow as needing reassurance, for example, the question of whether to have steak for dinner will simply not arise. I found this image of moral motivation very appealing, and it makes good sense of Murdoch’s idea that what we aim for ethically is obedience to reality, not freedom (Murdoch, 1999, pp. 331–2). Those sceptical of such a conception of moral motivation will not find much to persuade them here, but for those already drawn to this picture, it provides a helpful discussion of what that might look like. Philosophical discussions of attention are still in somewhat early days, at least within ethics, so this book is a welcome addition to those discussions. It also helpfully identifies many of the key questions that those interested in attention will have to answer. At various points, however, the answers to the questions or the reasons one might have for holding them were much less clear. At times the book reads more as a series of intersecting reflections on Murdoch, Weil, and attention rather than as a systematic account of attention, an argument for its role and significance, or an exegetical examination of the idea in Murdoch and Weil. Readers who are not already well acquainted with Murdoch andWeil may struggle here.Whilst in some respects this is a shortcoming, it is also an advantage, and some of the best parts of the book come in the more incidental passages. There’s a wonderful discussion of the role of fantasy in Madame Bovary, for example (p. 80), and the book endswith a delightful codameditating on effort and letting go in swimming and attention, two interests that Panizza shares with Murdoch. Overall, then, the book is well worth reading for those interested in Murdoch, Weil, and attention.