What the editors thought they were doing when they actually put this book together is impossible to comprehend. While I have only so far read the first 100 pages (which are on German idealism), I have noticed large disparities among the articles.
Some (introduction, Beiser's chapter on the context of post-Kantian philosophy, and Houlgate's chapter on Hegel) were written as accessible introductions. They are excellent for what they are.
Others, such as the chapter on Kant, are involved treatments of particular questions that are of little use to the kind of person who reads this book. It is obvious that Pippin's essay on Kant was only included because of who Pippin is, not because the essay will introduce people to Kant. The essay, in fact, deals with Hegel's reading of Kant's Critique of Judgment. While it suggests that a good case can be made for showing that Kant abandoned his own earlier critical philosophy for something more "Hegelian," anything further is simply not possible to glean from the text without having read the works with which Pippin deals. If one has read enough to appreciate this chapter, one will not read this book. This should have been obvious!
Still other chapters were obviously written first in German or French and clumsily translated (Siep, Behler, and Courtine on Fichte, Schelgel/Novalis, and Schelling, respectively). Literally translated German idioms cannot fool some of us, and can't be understood by the rest of us who are fooled. This is notable in "gives us to understand" in Siep's or Behler's chapter (I forget which it is), which is really "gibt uns zu verstehen." Come on, people! The first two chapters make some effort to introduce the authors, but the Schelling chapter deals only with one aspect of Schelling's early thought. Why call the chapter "Schelling," then?!
Did these authors really expect the reader to go through these chapters and learn something? If so, what did they expect the reader to learn? The truth must be that the editors did not think of this. They threw together whatever they could find by famous and well-published scholars. This is more like a beauty pageant of the authors than a serious introduction to Continental philosophy. It certainly cannot pass as a reference work, either (just what is a "companion to X" supposed to be, anyway?).
I don't think I'll be able to bring myself to read the rest of this book. To Blackwell I say, just scrap this and start over.