gordon zima

The technical man, more than any other, has put the shapes and habits, opportunities and neglects, into our time. If a man with such a bent reaches a place where he questions some of his paths, he will usually need more help than he can find within himself to take, maybe blaze, another path. Here, a man like this—Paul Sanger, still young, but old enough to sign for material to make a conscience—stumbles into accidents of aristocratic environment and friendships that will warp him into a situation of impossible love, and pull him into new technical vistas that will qualify, and energize, him for his path changes. These things will also put him in the way of another possibly impossible woman, with a conscience like his own, who refuses the obstacles posed by him in looking at her own future. The problems here—technical, academic, emotional, ethical—are contemporary...and timeless.