A masterful realization in story of two hundred years in the lifetime of man--but the story is fragmented, episodic, dependent on encyclopedic foreknowledge for intelligibility. The sequence is chronological, the compass telescopic, and the web purposive, inescapably purposive: in the last Tale but one, ""In God's name, then. . . inform me for what reason you still maintain there is such a thing as a holy war?"" Motives are as manifold as the natures of men--the Emperor Alexius who wants an army from the Church; Pope Urban II seeking universal reform; Little Peter, ""The Preacher,"" hearing Voices; the monarchs of all Europe after power and glory; and, most expressive, the anonymous Everyman, innocent, wistful, so hopeful that even in death on the march he turns eyes toward Jerusalem. On both the light side (Blondel is superb) and the omnivorous dark side (""The Innocents,"" the children), the telling is rhythmic and delicately detailed--albeit abstruse. Elusive con-structure notwithstanding, the book is an endorsement or rather an embodiment of poetic license, watchful and eloquent.