Like many French intellectuals Crozier first wanted to become a writer and poet. A small volume of poems, jokes, and slogans came out of this early period of artistic activity. Ironically, this little volume was "rediscovered" by the Parisian publisher Gallimar and published in 1968 as an early example of Pop Art, only to be lost again when the revolt of May-June broke out.

"Great luck" struck Crozier in 1948 when he received a fellowship from the French government to study in the United States. Admitting that "I was pretty much a radical at that time," he became fascinated with American trade unions and toured the country interviewing hundreds of workers. Extremely critical of what he saw, he let his criticism soon gush its way into print.

"The greatest shock of my life came when I went back to France." The first week he found that France was no better. Two or three years later he felt it was worse.

ARTISTIC yearning fell before the urge "to know and understand" the forces of societal change. A synthesis began to emerge from what he called his internal dialectic. There were always two urges in him during these radical years: learning and fighting politically. Becoming a sociologist brought the discrete arts of his personality together; or maybe it is more accurate to say that, in "putting knowledge first," one was sacrificed for the other.

Profound points are few and often ludicrous, but perhaps one may be ventured here. Re?ization of the world's complexity-that no policy or ideology is right-are sometimes fatal thoughts for a would-be activist. Ignorance, and not knowledge, makes political bliss.

"Putting knowledge first" may have lost us a political activist, but it has given us a brilliant and charming sociologist, a species far too ra?e in either the United States or France.