Aldous Huxley’s novel “These Fallen Leaves” (the title of which was a line from Wordsworth’s classic poem) stylistically continues the series of books by this outstanding writer about the “lost generation” of British intellectuals. A wealthy widow-philanthropist is trying to revive the tradition of legendary artistic salons in an Italian villa of the Renaissance - however, neither a poet forced to moonlight as an editor of a tabloid newspaper, nor a lively writer having an affair with a witty dandy, nor, especially, an aging philosopher quietly hunting for the dowry of a foolish heiress, are obviously capable of laying claim to a new Boccaccio and a new da Vinci. However, Huxley would not be himself if this frivolous, in general, plot had not turned under his pen into a brilliant work of art - a smart and subtle work, in which caustic satire is combined with deep philosophy.