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BY THE SEA, BY THE SEA

10/24/2025

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 A WRITER'S WIT 
In the contemporary world, we think of politeness as surface behavior, like frosting—it’s sweet and attractive and finishes off the cake. But 19th century nobility and the enlightened thinkers and stoics before them viewed manners in a very different way. To them, manners are an outward expression of an inward struggle.
​Amor Towles
Author of ​Table for Two: Fictions
​Born October 24, 1964
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A. Towles

MY BOOK WORLD

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Starnone, Domenico. The Old Man by the Sea: A Novel. Translated by Oonagh Stransky. New York: Europa, 2024.

I’m not quite as enthusiastic about the novel as the unsigned “Briefly Noted” writer of the September 15, 2025 issue of The New Yorker seems to be. At one point, one of the principal characters, Nicola, quips, “And enjoy playing out your Old Man and the Sea fantasy; Make Hemingway roll over in his grave” (119). This seems an odd and forced comment, perhaps more from the mouth of the author than Nicola. For Starnone’s novel of a successful old writer (eighty-two) spending some time by the sea (instead of fishing for the big one as Santiago does in Hemingway’s book) is more about making amends (in his mind) with the women in his life, including his late mother whom he at one point believes, in a vision, has returned from the dead.
 
Rather, and in this way the two novels may be similar, Starnone’s old man is rethinking his life as a writer with remarks such as these: “As a young man it was deceptively easy to manipulate real facts, use them to churn out fictional stories with elements of truth, but as an old man my feeble efforts lead only to despair” (95). Or, “Practicality without imaginations is flawed. Stories are good and useful precisely because they train the brain not to be satisfied with appearances, and to look beyond” (103). But I must say, the old man does impart a bit of wisdom to another woman, when she says to him, “Don’t be clever,” and he answers, “I’m not. All I’m saying is that it’s good to imagine terrible things that can never actually come to pass. That way, when bad things do happen, we’re less frightened, and it’s easier to find consolation” (126).
 
Bingo. The old man hits the nail on the head about aging (at least it may, for some of us), and I suppose it is appropriate that this gem arrives on page 127 of 145.

Up Next:
MON 10/27: WHAT I'M THINKING ... IF ANYTHING 
TUES 10/28: A Writer's Wit | Ayad Akhtar

WEDS 10/29: A Writer's Wit | Caroline Paul
THURS 10/30: A Writer's Wit | Timothy Findley
FRI 10/31: A Writer's Wit | Julia Peterkin
      My Book World | Molly Jong-Fast, How to Lose Your Mother: A Daughter's Memoir

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VAGUS NERVE CAN HEAL

10/17/2025

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A WRITER'S WIT
I've yet to meet a writer who could change water into wine,  and we have a tendency to treat them like that.
​Michael Tolkin, Screenwriter
Author of film,  The Offer
​Born October 17, 1950
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M. Tolkin

MY BOOK WORLD

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Rosenberg, Stanley. Accessing the Healing Power of the Vagus Nerve: Self-Help Exercises for Anxiety, Depression, Trauma, and Autism. Berkeley: North Atlantic, 2017.
 
Part how-to, part anecdotal, all scientific, this book demonstrates the importance of the vagus nerve to one’s health. The author provides an entire appendix of easy-to-perform exercises (with photographs of a model to illustrate how they’re done). The vagus nerve carries messages from your brain to heart and digestive system. If it is damaged, it can cause many difficulties. A good read if you’re experiencing such problems. And as the subtitle would indicate, a healthy vagus nerve can help regulate conditions such as depression or anxiety. Check it out.

​Up Next:
MON 10/20: WHAT I'M THINKING ... IF ANYTHING 
TUES 10/21: A Writer's Wit | Ursula K. LeGuin

WEDS 10/22: A Writer's Wit | Doris Lessing
THURS 10/23: A Writer's Wit | Leszek Kolakowski
FRI 10/24: A Writer's Wit | Amor Towles
      My Book World | Domenico Starnone, The Old Man by the Sea

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MY BOOK WORLD ENCORE: A Small But Beautiful World

10/10/2025

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Somehow, I've gotten behind in my reading and have nothing new to profile! Perhaps it is because I am currently reading A Century of Fiction in the New Yorker, over 1,000 pages. Perhaps it is because I've had company this past weekend, when I often finish up my blog posts for the week. In any case, I extend to you an invitation to revisit (or visit) a blog post from March 3, 2014, where I review A. J. Ackerley's We Think the World of You​. 
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STROUT TELLS ALL

10/3/2025

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A WRITER'S WIT
We are the United States of Amnesia, which is encouraged by a media that has no desire to tell us the truth about anything, serving their corporate masters who have other plans to dominate us.
​Gore Vidal
Author of ​Myra Breckinridge 
​Born October 3, 1925
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G. Vidal

MY BOOK WORLD

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Strout, Elizabeth. Tell Me Everything: A Novel. New York: Random, 2024.

In this nonlinear novel, as is Strout’s style, it is as if she gathers together all the characters she’s ever written into her novels and catches us up on all their doings. And she does. Within the range of several Maine towns (people are always driving from one to another to shop or see someone they know), back and forth she travels until she brings everyone’s story up-to-date.

However, there is one character who garners more attention than others, a lawyer named Bob Burgess. When speaking with a friend, it is clear that said friend is about to be accused of murdering his mother years earlier, and Bob agrees to take on his case in court. Bob has his own problems. In childhood, he apparently takes the fall for accidentally killing his father, when it is actually his older brother who’s done it (an even more likely possibility will surface). And then there’s good old Olive Kitteridge, now ninety-one, living an apartment by herself. Author Lucy Barton stops by every so often and the two women swap “stories,” usually with a whiff of sordidness or at least . . . something curiosity-making. Makes me want to re-read all nine of the author’s books I’ve read as well as the two I haven’t! I’ve sung Strout’s praises before, and I’m going to do so again here. She knows how to tell stories that are interesting and appealing to a broad range of people. Get hooked on her, like I have!

Up Next:
MON 10/06: WHAT I'M THINKING ... IF ANYTHING 
TUES 10/07: A Writer's Wit | Michelle Alexander

WEDS 10/08: A Writer's Wit | Francisque Sarcey
THURS 10/09: A Writer's Wit | Jane Cooper
FRI 10/03: A Writer's Wit | Nora Roberts
      My Book World | TBD

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SECOND OF BORDEAUX SERIES

9/26/2025

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A WRITER'S WIT
The immature poet imitates; the mature poet plagiarizes.
T. S. Eliot,  Poet
Author of ​Four Quartets
Born September 26, 1888
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T. S. Eliot

MY BOOK WORLD

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Massie, Allan. Dark Summer in Bordeaux. London: Quartet, 2012.

Something comforting about sequels or book series: the same characters, some nice, some not. Rather like a family with whom you become reacquainted, and, good or bad, you can’t wait to see them again. So true with Massie’s four-book offering set during World War II.
 
Near the end of Death in Bordeaux, Lannes, la police judiciaire detective, manages to see that his son Dominique is released from his military POW camp in Germany. It is through a Faustian deal that he accomplishes this feat, but the act pleases Lannes’s wife no end, not to mention Lannes himself and his other two children. The family is once again intact. The murder from the first book, Death in Bordeaux,  remains a secret, but now Lannes is faced with a new situation just as diabolical as in his first novel.
 
I thought the gay character (corpse with his penis in his mouth) was a one-off, but not so. In this sequel, Léon, a young chap who works in a bookshop (for the man whose brother was murdered) is quietly gay himself, not to mention being good friends with Lannes’s son, Alain, who is straight. Well. A young German soldier begins to flirt with Léon when he comes into the bookshop. Turns out they are being observed by an enemy operative who wishes to entrap the soldier. He enlists young Léon by raping him and saying that worse will happen if he does not help him to snare his German quarry. Reluctantly, but realizing he has no choice, Léon does the operative’s bidding. Later, the soldier will kill himself.
 
There is much more to this sequel which kept me turning the pages faster than the first one, and if you’re into sort-of murder mysteries, more thrillers, actually, then you may like this series. Oh, and this book might be renamed The Unsaid. Throughout there exist any number of inner monologues in which Lannes and others voice only through their thoughts what they would like to say aloud. Perhaps Massie is suggesting what it is like to live in German-occupied France during World War II. Effective in any case. Mum’s the word!
 
One caveat: the publisher does not seem to employ a very competent copy editor. Each book has close to a half-dozen errors in each (in Dark Summer, page 89, one main character’s name, Miriam, is misspelled, M-i-r-i-a-n). This kind of sloppiness spoils an otherwise pleasant reading experience.

Up Next:
MON 9/29: WHAT I'M THINKING ... 
TUES 9/30: A Writer's Wit | Laura Esquivel

WEDS 10/01: A Writer's Wit | Faith Baldwin
THURS 10/02: A Writer's Wit | Terence Winter
FRI 10/03: A Writer's Wit | Gore Vidal
      My Book World | TBD

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LAZY AVIATOR, Her AMBITIOUS HUSBAND

9/19/2025

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A WRITER'S WIT
The reader always knows better what a book is about than the writer.
​William Golding
Author of ​Lord of the Flies
​Born September 19, 1911
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W. Golding

MY BOOK WORLD

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Shapiro, Laurie Gwen. The Aviator and the Showman: Amelia Earhart, George Putnam, and the Marriage That Made an American Icon. New York: Viking, 2025.

I grew up in the state of Kansas, and, as a child I heard a lot about aviatrix Amelia Earhart. The ironic thing I learn from this biography is that she and her family don’t spend all that much time in her hometown of Atchison. Yet her brief life there is foundational because her well-to-do grandparents see to it that she and her sister are educated by way of local elite schools. Amelia will later graduate from Columbia University in NYC. Another surprise for me: Although Earhart does become a noted pilot, her main career is that of social worker, and she stays with it a number of years before beginning to devote more time to aviation.
 
Most readers realize how and when Earhart is going to die, but Shapiro does seem to “foreshadow” Amelia’s path to that end throughout the book, beginning with “However, dating an aviator came with exasperating asterisks, and Sam lived in fear that he might one day discover his sometimes girlfriend, whose commitment he was finally winning over, had perished, despite spending hours in the field” (68). In addition, Amelia experiences several aviation failures, including crashes that destroy a number of expensive airplanes.
 
The book skillfully weaves together the stories of two individuals, Amelia Earhart and her husband George Palmer Putnam, and both narratives are important in order to understand the couple as a “unit.” Putnam is heir to the Putnam and Sons publishing empire, but though George works there for some time, he never flourishes to the degree that he becomes qualified to take over the reins when the opportunity arises. Instead, he becomes sort of a high-class huckster, selling (mostly) literary talent—but most especially he promotes the aviation career of his wife. Earhart, it turns out, isn’t as disciplined as she should be. For one, she doesn’t put in enough flight hours to be top-notch, and later on, particularly during her final hours over the Pacific Ocean, her failure to master Morse code will more than likely affect her ability to handle the perilous situation she sets up for herself and her alcoholic navigator, Fred Noonan (yet another error in judgment, but because of her weak reputation she can’t find a more reputable person to fly with her).
 
Shapiro sums up Earhart’s epic failure in 1937 this way: “The technical limitations of Amelia’s onboard equipment soon became apparent. Inadequate equipment, an off-calibrated compass, and erroneous chart coordinates converged into a navigational catastrophe. These issues, worsened by unexpected headwinds and a major navigational deviation, led to a bleak conclusion: Amelia Earhart and Fred Noon had vanished, possibly due to running out of fuel. Luck had been a lady before, but this time, she could no longer outrun fate” (388).
 
Though Shapiro is an excellent journalist and writer, I can’t help but be put off by some typos and sloppy copyediting:
 
Here Shapiro is writing in the past tense but then she shifts to the present for no apparent reason: “When the crayon heiress felt that a bigger house was needed and asked her parents for the money, George couldn’t be more pleased” (14). “. . . couldn’t have been more pleased” seems the preferable usage here, and I wonder why a copyeditor doesn’t catch the slip.
 
Needless repetition: “George told the candidate that he wanted to do one more discreet background check but would report back as soon as he could” (88). How about eliminating the second “back”?
 
Needless repetition: “. . . a protective smile gracing her face as memories of her own childhood curiosities flooded back. With her background as a social worker . . .” (148). How about “flooding into her mind” or similar?
 
Needless repetition: “. . . leaving him furious after defeat. After Elinor underwent . . .” (182). How about replacing the first “after” with “following”?
 
Needless repetition: “She recounted an encounter with a flock of pigeons . . .” (283). These are both embedded in other words but repetition is still avoidable. How about “She recounted a set-to with a flock of pigeons”?
 
Overall, I wish to say that the book is a very satisfying read, especially for fans of Amelia Earhart. It certainly gives readers a fuller and more accurate view of the woman’s life than the short feature I was forced to teach my sixth graders from the basal reader in the 1980s. Nothing there indicated Fred Noonan’s alcoholism or Earhart’s shortcomings.

​Up Next:
MON 9/22: WHAT I'M THINKING ... 
TUES 9/23: A Writer's Wit | Liz Murray

WEDS 9/24: A Writer's Wit | F. Scott Fitzgerald 
THURS 9/25: A Writer's Wit | Barbara Walters
FRI 9/26: A Writer's Wit | T. S. Eliot
      My Book World | Allan Massie, Dark Summer in Bordeaux

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LORCA'S POETRY TIMELESS

9/12/2025

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A WRITER'S WIT
There is nothing stronger in the world than gentleness.
Han Suyin
Author of ​My House Has Two Doors
Born September 12, 1916
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H. Suyin

MY BOOK WORLD

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Lorca, Federico García. Selected Poems of Federico García Lorca. Edited by Francisco García Lorca and Donald M. Allen. With an introduction by W.S. Merwin. New York: New Directions, 2005 (1955).

A woman who taught Spanish at the high school where I once worked as an English teacher recommended that I read Lorca’s work, that we had “a lot in common.” She may have been referring to the fact that I, too, am gay. Perhaps she meant more.
 
I probably appreciated most of all the poems written when Lorca lived in New York City, not only because it is material with which I am more familiar but because he does seem to touch a nerve concerning our shared sexuality. In “Ode to Walt Whitman,” “the boys were singing showing, their waists” (131), as if to tempt me into this kingdom already tempting me with Whitman himself. Lorca invokes Whitman with descriptors such as “aged,” Whitman, “old man” Whitman and other variations of the grand poet’s name, as if he might rise from the very grave he has occupied, by that time, at least forty years. Almost as if Lorca wishes to crawl into the crypt with his hero.
 
Not for one moment, beautiful aged Walt Whitman,
have I failed to see your beard full of butterflies,
nor your shoulders of corduroy worn out by the moon,
nor your thighs of virginal Apollo,
nor your voice like a pillar of ashes:
ancient and beautiful as the mist,
you moaned like a bird
with the sex transfixed by a needle,
enemy of the satyr,
enemy of the vine,
and lover of bodies under the rough cloth (133)

 
I would be tempted to copy out the entire poem for readers, but it is best you secure your own version of the book, underline and savor the passages you wish to remember.
_______________________________________________
Up Next:
MON 9/15: WHAT I'M THINKING ... WHAT HAPPENED TO LABOR DAY?​
TUES 9/16: A Writer's Wit | Lord Bolingbroke

WEDS 9/17: A Writer's Wit | Cheryl Strayed
THURS 9/18: A Writer's Wit | Francis Parker Yockey
FRI 9/19: A Writer's Wit | William Golding
      My Book World |
Shapiro, Laurie Gwen. The Aviator and the Showman: Amelia Earhart, George Putnam, and the Marriage That Made an American Icon

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A PIONEER OF ARTIFICIAL INTELLIGENCE

9/5/2025

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A WRITER'S WIT
If you are loyal (to the Kremlin) you get ads. If you are not loyal, you don’t get ads.
​Yevgenia Albats
Author of The State Within a State: The KGB and its Hold on Russia—Past, Present, and Future

​Born September 5, 1958
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Y. Albats
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Hao, Karen. Empire of AI: Dreams and Nightmares in Sam Altman’s OpenAI. New York:  Penguin, 2025

I occasionally read out of my fields of study (literature, writing, and music) or out of my depth, to give myself a challenge. In the case of this title, I have done both, but once having begun the task, I was determined to finish the book. I perhaps liken the experience to being a second-year French student attempting to read Camus or Molière; you might comprehend only a fraction of what you’re reading. Problems for the general citizen hoping to understand Artificial Intelligence (AI) can be considerable: apprehending modern technology in general; absorbing specialized vocabulary (AI engenders a very slick and plentiful argot); and fully grasping the culture of people in this field who may believe that AI is capable of solving all human problems, and that there is very little chance that AI could ever advance far enough to think for itself and thus rule our lives without human intervention.
 
As the subtitle would seem to indicate, the book is about one forty-year-old-man named Sam Altman, the CEO of his own company, OpenAI. It begins as a nonprofit, using its lofty goals of employing AI technology to benefit all humanity. However, the organization gets lost in the weeds along the way. Repeatedly, throughout the book, Hao demonstrates a certain duplicity on the part of Altman. He assuages one party in the company by taking their side and then does the very same thing with a different party. Then he acts all What? Me? when confronted. It is a behavior that cannot be sustained over time, especially in light of the fact that the company, and Altman particularly, begin to make money by the fistful. 
 
There are two chapters out of the twenty or so that regular people will more readily understand. One is when Hao takes readers to South America (Venezuela) to view how OpenAI exploits its employees there to perform tasks for cheap that no one in the States would do: really tedious work for which workers are paid literally pennies for each task. In other words, AI uses—let’s be honest—slave labor. Oh, and along with its other insipient problems, OpenAI consumes a great deal of electricity which, in turn, creates a great deal of heat. Such heat must be reduced by using cooling units like water, exhausting a resource already in short supply in Venezuela (later the company does develop air-cooled methods).

​Another chapter is about Annie, Altman’s younger sister, who, through a series of misadventures winds up nearly destitute. Her family members believe that she is largely responsible for her own misfortunes, and they do not help her beyond minimal financial gestures. Sam Altman, the family member who, by now is the most able to help his sister, does perhaps the least. The situation becomes stickier when she accuses him, quite convincingly to readers (although Hao makes it clear we cannot know for sure), that he has sexually molested her throughout her childhood. The remaining chapters of the book, at least to this reader, are largely written for people in the biz.
 
Readers must understand the vocabulary of AI, that “compute” is no longer a verb but a noun, according to Hao, “a term of art for computation resources, that Open AI would need to achieve major breakthroughs in AI capabilities” (59). As in “Does the program have enough compute to do the job?” Although Hao does define certain words from their first use, it would also be nice for the publisher to provide readers with a glossary should there be a second edition in the offing (that is if the publisher is really attempting to inform the hoi polloi about AI). Despite this shortcoming, Hao is a well-respected and well-informed journalist who has done a tremendous multi-year job of researching the heck out of this book, yet, for the most part, it is not easy for the non-IT person to understand. Seems as if there might be two books squeezed between these covers: one about AI and its many wonders and downfalls, its unexplored routes of endeavor. The other is about the miscreant personality of one man who gains power too early in his life and does not know how to manage it. If one wants to read about how these two subjects merge, then this is that book. Happy reading!

Up Next:
​TUES 9/9: A Writer's Wit | Kimberly Willis Holt

WEDS 9/10: A Writer's Wit | Faith Hunter
THURS 9/11: A Writer's Wit | Andre Dubus III
FRI 9/12: A Writer's Wit | Han Suyin
      My Book World | Federico Garc
ía Lorca, The Selected Poems of Federico García Lorca
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ISLAND WITH LITTLE HEART

8/29/2025

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A WRITER'S WIT
What we must remember is that artifice is not necessarily the antithesis of sincerity.
​Thom Gunn, Poet
Author of ​The Man with Night Sweats
​Born August 29, 1929
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T. Gunn

MY BOOK WORLD 

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​Zebrun, Gary. Hart Island: A Novel. Madison: U of Wisconsin Press, 2024.

A finalist for the most recent Ferro-Grumley Award in Fiction, this grisly but redemptive novel is set on the also boot-shaped protrusion (like Italy) known as Hart Island in New York City. Each day, Sal Cusumano travels back and forth from home in Staten Island to Hart, where he, along with Riker’s Island inmates, buries unfortunates: the indigent, the unknown, particularly the unclaimed, the bodies (at one time babies in the arms of their mothers) no one knows is missing. In fact, it is the infants without identities who cause Sal to mourn most grievously, though silently, and usually quite alone.
 
Sal’s life is complicated. Once a fine specimen and captain for the Coast Guard, he was drummed out during the early days of Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell for being gay. He has been lovers with an adopted brother (now a priest, go figure) since they were children—a committed and still carnal relationship. Sal’s older brother is a Manhattan homicide detective who hobnobs with the mafia. Their mother suffers dementia and needs round-the-clock attention. What a cheerful life, and what can go wrong!
 
Father Justin’s simple theory, that “faith and eternal life are all about kindness” (39), exemplifies his quiet manner of pursuing a ministry. How he lives with an unbeliever (or disbeliever) like Sal is at times difficult to understand. Yet a part of Sal is like Justin, caring for others, though they now happen to be dead. A certain foreshadowing exists that Sal is going to die, even that he’s going to die at the hands of his brother the mobster-detective, Antony, but how it plays out is a bitter irony not to be missed. 
 
Following Sal’s death, the Riker’s Island gang perform sort of a secular burial mass, where they lay the unfortunate Sal to rest in this potter’s field known as Hart Island—substituting their oft-consumed Jameson Irish Whiskey for a certain grape drink. They conclude by playing Eric Clapton’s song, “Tears from Heaven” and this apparently literary crowd citing from Derek Walcott’s poem (Sea Canes): Half my friends are dead. / I will make you new ones, said earth. / No, give me them back as they were, instead, / with faults and all, I cried (179). “The dead don’t know how or why Sal has ended up with them, but they welcome him into their earth, someone they know. They can almost taste the whiskey mourners pass around. They see how much the captain was cared for and wonder, if love like this is buried in this earth, can it spread through their graves, too” (180).
 
A more fitting end this novel could not have.

Up Next:
​TUES: A Writer's Wit | Kai Bird

WEDS: A Writer's Wit | Rachel Johnson
THURS: A Writer's Wit | Richard Wright
FRI: A Writer's Wit | Yevgenia Albats
      My Book World | TBD
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ONCE A CATHOLIC?

8/15/2025

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A WRITER'S WIT
It was a Sunday afternoon, wet and cheerless; and a duller spectacle this earth of ours has not to show than a rainy Sunday in London.
Thomas De Quincey
Author of Confessions of an English Opium-Eater
​Born August 15, 1785
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T. De Quincey

MY BOOK WORLD 

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​Plante, David. The Catholic. New York: Plume, 1987 (1985).

I first read this book in 1987 when American companies were just beginning to publish gay men’s fiction in what seemed like large numbers. I now believe I read it rather hurriedly, paying close attention to the sex scenes often written in great detail. I did this novel a great disservice. I now view it as a wonderful portrayal of a young man in the 1960s struggling not so much with being with men sexually but being with them in the world, his Catholic world in particular.
 
Dan, a young man teaching public school in Boston, narrates his short past: his father, his mother, his sister, their upbringing. With regard to his high school education, he tells of what seems like raping his good friend Charlie—an event they never mention again, even though they do remain friends into their twenties. Dan frequents the Boston bars where men meet men to have sex, and he goes home with a similarly aged man named Henry. In what may be one of the longest sex scenes I’ve ever encountered in a novel, Dan and Henry hungrily and repeatedly devour one another until early in the morning there is little left of either of them. At the same time, the chapter, as is the book, is full of Dan’s intellectualization or rationalization of the experience that he is tempted to think of as love: 
 
"I wondered how many people he had made love with on this sheet. It was penetrated with the presences of how many lovers, their sweat and saliva and whatever sperm hadn’t been wiped away by the towel? I smoothed out the wrinkles between our bodies and was reminded of the sheets I used to see in the college dormitory pulled from the beds by women every Monday morning and thrown into piles in the corridors. As I passed them I used to imagine they retained the impressions of all the bodies that slept in them, had jerked off and maybe made love with others in them, and I wanted to fall into one of the piles” (31).
 
Dan thinks this deeply and philosophically about everything including the religion he claims to have abandoned. Near the end of the novel, the following idea occurs to him:
 
"If what I was struggling for was faith, I had not even reconciled in myself how that faith was to be achieved, through my own will or a vast will-lessness. I would never reconcile these. I was struggling both to overcome and to be overcome, and in doing this I was struggling for the realization of my greatest desire, for belief” (146).
 
Up until the end, Dan’s beliefs subliminally lace his thoughts: 
 
"I wished I had drawn blood from Henry, just a little, then drawn blood from the same part of my body, from our arms or chests, and pressed his blood into mine” (150). 
 
The phrases that ring of Genesis—"bone of my bone” and “flesh of my flesh”—seem to imbue Dan’s desire to make Henry’s blood his as well. It seems that once a Catholic always a Catholic, but that aphorism may be too simple. Perhaps, once human, always human is more like it, and that concept seems to be what Dan cannot learn or accept.

​Up Next:
​TUES: A Writer's Wit | Frank McCourt

WEDS: A Writer's Wit | Anne Edwards
THURS: A Writer's Wit | Alexander Chee
FRI: A Writer's Wit | Dorothy Parker

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ALLISON'S STORIES: NOT TRASH

8/8/2025

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A WRITER'S WIT
I certainly don’t fit into any genre that I know of. Writing, for me, feels like reinventing the wheel every time. But I wouldn’t want it any other way. After all, if you are just writing an altered version of what someone else has already done, why bother? 
​Evan Fallenberg
Author of ​Light Fell
​Born August 8, 1961
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E. Fallenberg

MY BOOK WORLD

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Allison, Dorothy. Trash: Stories by Dorothy Allison. Ithica: Firebrand, 1988.

The late author Allison begins this book with a preface, “Deciding to Live,” in which she outlines the horrific childhood she suffered through to become an adult: an abusive father, her struggle to put herself through college, and more. It sets up the stories, particularly the first seven or eight of fourteen, in which each first-person narrative relives some fragment or shard of Allison’s fractured life, only transformed, of course, from the realities of life to the realities of fiction: “I write stories. I write fiction, I put on the page a third look at what I’ve seen in life—the condensed and reinvented experience of a cross-eyed working-class lesbian, addicted to violence, language, and hope, who has made the decision to live, is determine to live, on the page and on the street, for me and mine” (12).
 
Allison died late in 2024 at age 75. Her stories in Trash are laced with that titular word: “She called the children devils and worms and trash, and swore that, like worms, their natural substance was dirt and weeds” (23).
 
“Listen to you. You . . . you trash. You nothing but trash. Your mama’s trash, and your grandmama, and your whole dirty family . . . “ (63).
 
“Bobby believed lust was a trashy lower-class impulse, and she so wanted to be nothing like that” (120).
 
Allison swings for the rafters with this one: “Poor white trash I am sure. I eat shit food and am not worthy. My family starts with good teeth but loses them early. Five of my cousins bled to death before thirty-five, their stomachs finally surrendering to sugar and whiskey and fat and salt. I’ve given it up. If I cannot eat what I want, then I’ll eat what I must, but my dreams will always be flooded with salt and grease, crisp fried stuff that sweetens my mouth and feeds my soul. I would rather starve death than myself” (152).
 
These stories, though written more than thirty-five years ago, are still crisp with fresh wit and insight, and, not a little bit of history concerning a young girl growing up in South Carolina in the 1960s and 1970s. They are to be treasured and certainly read again and again.

​Up Next:
​TUES: A Writer's Wit | Mary Roberts Rinehart

WEDS: A Writer's Wit | Bryan Burrough
THURS: A Writer's Wit | Mary E. Pearson
FRI: My Book World | TBD

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MOBY-DICK: A SECOND READING

8/1/2025

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A WRITER'S WIT
Better sleep with a sober cannibal than a drunken Christian.
​Herman Melville
Author of ​Moby-Dick
Born August 1,  1819
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H. Melville

MY BOOK WORLD

PictureAuthor's Copy of Moby-Dick
Melville, Herman. Moby-Dick: An Authoritative Text | Reviews and Letters by Melville | Analogues and Sources | Criticism. Hayford, Harrison, and Hershel Parker, eds. New York: Norton, 1967.

I first read—if you want to call it reading--Moby-Dick when I was a sophomore in college. The instructor was not very inspiring, and, as a nineteen-year-old music major I wasn’t very receptive either. The novel seemed, at the time, like a ponderous and boring text. Having grown up in the Air Capital of the World, Wichita, Kansas, and its surrounding prairies, I didn’t have much curiosity about whales, whaling, being at sea (unless it were to have been aboard a cruise ship), blubber or that particular sort of sperm. Least of all, did I care for Ishmael, the narrator. How could a character about my age know as much about whales and whaling (and its many component parts and activities)? I noted that in the margin. Was young Ishmael speaking or was it Melville? I still believe it is a bit problematic; perhaps it is idiomatic of that period of writing that the author’s voice and character/narrator become blended as one.
 
After recently enjoying Melville’s Typee, I wondered what it would be like to peruse his masterpiece, Moby-Dick, once again. I located the very copy I’d read over fifty years ago—since that time having earned an MA in English and having taught AP English for ten years—and read it with different eyeballs, so to speak. I noticed right away my original underlining—I’d used a fountain pen with black ink, an indelible record of what I thought was important at the time. During this reading I annotated with pencil, as is my habit now—so much easier to expunge if I’ve made an error or said something stupid in the margins. Even pencil marks made fifty years ago can be erased today.
 
I still believe the text is ponderous, but with the caveat that it is also profound (although a few scholars cited at the back of this Norton text seem to disagree on its profundity). Shakespearean in scope? Odyssey-like in its structure? An inspired purpose? To demonstrate to readers the lengths to which a monomaniac (Melville repeats this nineteenth-century word many times) like Captain Ahab goes to avenge having lost his leg to the monstrous Moby-Dick. At one level it seems unreal to believe that having been injured in the Atlantic, Ahab can then locate the selfsame whale in what seems to be the South Pacific—thousands of miles away—and years down the line when Ahab is an old man.

​Seems to be quite a stretch. I mean, even today, if you equip a whale with a GPS tracker, you might not necessarily locate the creature. (I must now account for the science, not clear back then, that whales swim not randomly around the globe but, like birds, have set “highways” and migration periods.) Yet the beauty of the novel and its pacing is that if you follow Ahab, through Ishmael’s eyes, that if you, too, have boarded the infamous Pequod and journeyed with those intrepid sailors to locate and kill this gigantic whale—you, as well, can experience this mighty expedition. At once I now feel that I have indeed read the novel, but at the same time, I might read it every year until my death and still not fathom either the journey it takes or its profundity.

​Up Next:
​TUES: A Writer's Wit | Fiona Hill 

WEDS: A Writer's Wit | Martin Duberman
THURS: A Writer's Wit | Anne Fadiman
FRI: My Book World | TBD 

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PINNING DOWN SATAN

7/25/2025

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Time is not a linear flow, as we think it is, into past, present, and future. Time is an indivisible whole, a great pool in which all events are eternally embodied and still have their meaningful flash of supernormal or extrasensory perception, and glimpse of something that happened long ago in our linear time.
​​Frank Waters
Author of ​Book of the Hopi
Born July 25, 1902
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F. Waters

MY BOOK WORLD

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Rushdie, Salman. The Satanic Verses: A Novel. New York: Random, 1997 (1988).

In some respects this novel is a simple one. Two men—both Indian actors—fall from the sky when the jumbo jet they’re riding in is split apart by a bomb, apparently. And unlike all the other passengers, only these two men survive. The rest of the novel is spent telling about the spectacular lives of these two men, whose stories sometimes mesh together. I have to admit that this may be one of the most complex contemporary novels I’ve ever read. Though I probably won’t read it again, I believe I would have to in order to understand it more fully.

At the time it was published (late 1980s) Salman Rushdie was nearly crucified for writing it. That seems to be one of the complexities I don’t understand. Why? I guess I would have to be Muslim to get why this novel was so offensive to such a wide swath of such readers (if they indeed did read it). Rushdie does create and recreate worlds that are beyond belief, but he does so in such a manner that one does believe every word. He takes every liberty that an author can take to create or recreate original language and poetry, verses as it were. I read the book aloud to my partner, and I believe that did help me to soak up more of the novel—even if I didn’t understand everything that happened.

Up Next:
​TUES: A Writer's Wit | Mary Lee Settle 

WEDS: A Writer's Wit | Thorstein Veblen
THURS: A Writer's Wit | J. K. Rowling 
FRI: My Book World |Herman Melville, Moby-Dick 

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TYPE 'A' OR TYPEE?

7/18/2025

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A WRITER'S WIT
A woman who dared to live as an overt homosexual in such unwelcoming times might well have an ego of impressive strength and health that permitted her it know her own mind and to be true to her conception of herself.
​Lillian Faderman
Author of ​Harvey Milk: His Lives and Death
​Born July 18, 1940
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L. Faderman

MY BOOK WORLD

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Melville, Herman. Typee. New York: BOMC, 1997 (1846).

When Melville is a young man, he makes a trip throughout the South Pacific as a sailor. Typee is a novel based on his voyage, yet though the arc of the narrative is fiction-like, it clearly feels as if it is based on actual experiences. The protagonist, Tom, and his friend Toby, become bored with their work on one ship and decide to ditch their agreement or contract with the captain. They run into the island mountains and are confronted with two groups of natives: the Happars and the Typees. Only the Typees are said to be cannibals, and that is the group that winds up “capturing” the two boys. At first, they do not sense the danger they are in because the natives are somewhat kind to them: feeding them quite well and meeting other needs too. However, the boys are not let out of sight of the natives, and they suspect they could wind up as dead meat on a stick for this tribe. At one point Toby does escape, and Tom believes he will never see his buddy again. Tom bides his time and somehow makes his way onto another ship and escapes back to his native America. There after some time, young Toby does appear (in rather a Coda-like chapter) and explains to his relieved friend, Tom, how he too was captured, in the sense, at least, that Toby was not allowed to return and retrieve his friend. Some of the language, and certainly the story, still remain fresh after nearly 200 years. It also prepares one for the reading of Melville’s Moby-Dick.

Up Next:
​TUES: A Writer's Wit | David Shields 

WEDS: A Writer's Wit | Lauren Groff
THURS: A Writer's Wit | Zelda Fitzgerald 
FRI: My Book World | Salman Rushdie, The Satanic Verses 

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WE NEED MORE LINGUAPHILES

7/4/2025

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A WRITER'S WIT
A church is a hospital for sinners, not a museum for saints.
​Pauline Phillips [Abigail Van Buren]
Author of 
Where Were You When President Kennedy Was Shot? Memories and Tributes to a Slain President​
​Born July 4, 1918
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P. Phillips

MY BOOK WORLD

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​Sedivy, Julie. Linguaphile: A Life of Language Love. New York: Farrar, 2024.

This book, I believe, was “briefly noted” in the New Yorker, and I found it just as fascinating as the review. Sedivy artfully threads together a memoir of her linguistic life, her scientific studies, and how linguistics speaks to cultures worldwide. Sedivy starts off by telling us of her childhood, where she first learns to speak Hungarian. As her family moves around, finally to the USA, she learns Italian, German, and English. She not only shares with us what she knows about spoken/written language but also that there exist over 300 sign languages in the world. She addresses how loss or reduction of hearing affects our linguistic abilities, and in the last chapter the deaths in her life. She and her brother’s best friend Oliver spend the brother’s last seven days on earth with him, sharing stories and jokes. What has this to do with linguistics? Sedivy tells us:
 
I have this moment into which my brother’s life is compressed, this moment of him and Oliver passing the world “love” back and forth between them, until there is nothing more to be said and Vac steers his small boat into the great silence” (275).

Up Next:
​TUES JUL 15: A Writer's Wit | Iris Murdoch

WEDS JUL 16: A Writer's Wit | Reinaldo Arenas
THURS JUL 17: A Writer's Wit | James Purdy 
FRI JUL 18: My Book World | Herman Melville, Typee 
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ABUNDANCE IF WE WANT IT

6/20/2025

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A WRITER'S WIT
I get tired of stories that keep going and going and never get anywhere. It's like a promise that's never fulfilled. Stories need endings. Otherwise, they aren't really stories. Just pages.
​Ted Naifeh
Author of 
Courtney Crumrin and the Night Things
​Born June 20, 1971
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T. Naifeh

MY BOOK WORLD

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Klein, Ezra and Derek Thompson. Abundance. New York: Simon, 2025.

If you’ve ever listened to Klein’s podcast via the Times, you know how bright and articulate he is, how in-depth he explores an issue. In the introduction he and Thompson state up front:
 
“This book is dedicated to a simple idea: to have the future we want, we need to build and invent more of what we need” (4).
 
So much of what they say is important that I find myself underlining far more than I usually do in a book these days, but I find this statement moving: “Over the course of the twentieth century, America developed a right that fought the government and a left that hobbled it. Debates over the size of government obscured the diminishing capacity of government. An abundance of consumer goods distracted us from a scarcity of homes and energy and infrastructure and scientific breakthroughs. A counterforce is emerging, but it is young yet” (5).
 
The authors focus on both the right and the left, making the problems discussed more universal, less partisan in nature. The authors use California as an example. The state has for years attempted to build a high-speed railroad between LA and SF. After receiving billions of dollars, it is still not done. In fact, in most aspects, it has never begun. Too many state regulations and laws that must be overcome, just to mention one aspect. That is the problem with the left: too many restrictions originally meant to protect land and other values. The right is just the opposite. They want restrictions lifted so they may have the freedom to do what they wish, all the time, full stop—regardless of the outcomes.
 
So much more I could cite, but I’ll end with this statement concerning energy and how it affects our conception of abundance: “The stocks of fossil fuels are finite and their continued combustion is lethal. This would be true even if climate change was a hoax. Air pollution kills between 7 million and 9 million people each year; that is six or seven times the death toll from traffic accidents and hundreds of times the death toll from war or terrorism or all natural disasters combined. It is deadliest where people cook by burning wood or charcoal and farm by burning the end of the last season’s crops. That is to say, it is deadliest where people are energy poor, because where people are energy poor, they burn fuel and breathe in the byproducts” (63).
 
This book is one of the most refreshing, stimulating, and informative that I have read in a long time. Buy a copy, read it, and then send copies to your family and friends. It deserves to be widely read.

​Up Next:
​TUES: A Writer's Wit | Jandy Nelson

WEDS: A Writer's Wit | Anthony Bourdain
THURS: A Writer's Wit | Pearl S. Buck
FRI: My Book World | TBD

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NITTY GRITTY OF FLORIDA

6/13/2025

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A WRITER'S WIT
The art of teaching is the art of assisting discovery.
​Mark Van Doren
Author of ​Liberal Education 
​Born June 13, 1894
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M. Van Doren

MY BOOK WORLD

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Groff, Lauren. Florida. New York: Random, 2018.

As I begin reading this collection of stories, I am doubtful that the author can convince me to like Florida any more than I already do (which isn’t much). Most of my life it has been a way station—to the Bahamas, to Europe, but not a destination of its own—except for two different trips to Key West which actually were delightful. Ms. Groff, however, takes readers into a Florida of gators, snakes, insects, and heat, relentless heat and humidity. But also a place of wild human animals.
 
There is Jude, “born in a Cracker-style house at the edge of a swamp that boiled with unnamed species of reptiles” (15). There is an older sister who thinks “an island is never really quiet. Even without the storm, there were waves and wind and air conditioners and generators and animals moving out there in the dark” (44). On a stormy night, a woman’s young sons “told me about the World Pool, in which one current goes one way, another goes another way, and where they meet they make a tornado of air, which stretches, said my little one, from the midnight zone, where the fish are blind, all the way up up up to the birds” (77). One narrative titled “Snake Stories” reads like this: “Walk outside in Florida, and a snake will be watching you: snakes in mulch, snakes in scrub, snakes waiting from the lawn for you to leave the pool so they can drown themselves in it, snakes gazing at your mousy ankle and wondering what it would feel like to sink their fangs in deep” (204).
 
Groff is unafraid to tell readers about human snakes, as well: ne’er do well fathers, skanky women, mean children, perhaps all made malicious by the climate: hot and humid twenty-four/seven. Yet, as Florida’s large population must attest to, there has to be something wonderful about the place: tempting seafood, cool breezes off the water, mild winters, and empathic people here and there who stop to help someone in trouble.

Up Next:
​TUES: A Writer's Wit | Carol Anderson

WEDS: A Writer's Wit | Sylvia Field Porter
THURS: A Writer's Wit | Salman Rushdie
FRI: My Book World | Ezra Klein & Derek Thompson, Abundance 

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SEX AND THE STEINS

6/6/2025

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A WRITER'S WIT: 
I grew up in North Dakota around Dakota and Ojibwe people, and also small-town people in Wahpeton. Writers make few choices, really, about their material. We have to write about what comes naturally and what interests us—so I do.
​Louise Erdrich
Author of ​The Night Watchman
​Born June 6, 1954
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L. Erdrich

MY BOOK WORLD 

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Stadler, Matthew. Allan Stein: A Novel. New York: Grove, 1999.

Since I read this novel the first time, I’ve also read Stadler’s The Sex Offender, and in some ways they deal with the same subject matter. Both books concern youngish male school teachers who are disgraced by having affairs with (underage) male pupils of theirs. Both books have the filthy protagonist flee to Europe or a European-like country (Sex Offender). In both books the older male finds a new young protégé over which to make a fool of himself. Stadler approaches this subject in both cases without judgment (except the judgment the protagonist bears against himself) and with great sensitivity.
 
In Allan Stein, in order to take flight from his recent fling and disgrace, a young gay American travels to Paris assuming the name of a friend who wishes for him to do some business research on his behalf (he can “vacation” while “Herbert” is gone and also deduct the travel expense for his business). The “new” Herbert is to stay with long-distance friends who’ve never actually met the real Herbert. And . . . they happen to have a fifteen-year-old son who seems very seducible, and Herbert spends a great deal of time attempting to do just that. 
 
The real beauty of the novel (otherwise it might just be a salacious story) is the parallel pursuit he makes: 1) To locate some drawings of Allan Stein (Gertrude Stein’s nephew) on behalf of the real Herbert, an art dealer. 2) To try to gain the confidence of his host’s son, Stéphane. Does “Herbert” indeed seduce the winsome Stéphane? I’m not at liberty to say, but the ending in any case is a satisfying one.

Up Next:
​TUES: A Writer's Wit | Gina Gershon

WEDS: A Writer's Wit | Yasunari Kawabata 
THURS: A Writer's Wit | Anne Frank
FRI: My Book World | Lauren Groff, Florida ​[Stories]

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A NOVEL OF FERAL PEOPLE

5/30/2025

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A WRITER'S WIT
Tears are summer showers to the soul.
Alfred Austin
Author of 
​Born May 30, 1835

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A. Austin

MY BOOK WORLD

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Lethem, Jonathan. The Feral Detective. New York: HarperCollins, 2018.

Manhattanite Phoebe Siegler agrees to help find the missing daughter of friend. Arabella, being a freshman at Reed College on the west coast, has been missing for three months but now may be in southern California. Phoebe hires Charles Heist whom she right away calls the feral detective, mainly because he himself seems wild, part of the high desert milieu of Joshua Tree environs. His “profession,” if one wants to call it that, is to find missing children and youth, and Phoebe not only interests him in the case but in having rather bumbling sex with her as well. 
 
This book reads quickly mainly because many chapters are only a paragraph or a page long. Seems a waste of the publisher’s paper supply to leave entire pages blank. But anyway . . . Phoebe and Charles embark on a trip into the mountains in which they are indeed successful in locating Arabella and secreting her out of the community of Rabbits (women hippies) and Bears (not-gay hairy men) who seem to run roughshod over this desert-mountainous area. Phoebe escorts Arabella back to New York and her mother via commercial flight, but Phoebe now seems to become the feral detective because Charles is “lost,” and she must find him. His rescue is a wild and wooly affair, but Phoebe is successful, and the denouement of this novel is a soft landing compared to where it has been. Still, an enjoyable read.

Up Next:
​TUES: A Writer's Wit | Allen Ginsberg

WEDS: A Writer's Wit | Ruth Westheimer
THURS: A Writer's Wit | Bill Moyers
FRI: My Book World | Matthew Stadler, Allan Stein: A Novel

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COMIC-HOST ALSO A HE DEVIL

5/23/2025

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A WRITER'S WIT
I don’t think I’m essentially interested in children’s books. I’m interested in writing, and in pictures. I’m interested in people and in children because they are people.
​Margaret Wise Brown
Author of ​The Important Book
​Born May 23, 1910
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M. Wise Brown

MY BOOK WORLD

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Norton, Graham. The Life and Loves of a He Devil. London: Hodder, 2014.

This entertaining book by a British “chat show” host (primarily, though he’s trained and performed as an actor and has worked both in NYC and London) is divided into eight sections. These include one on his love of dogs, one on his Irish upbringing, an honest one on his love affair with booze, and perhaps the most fascinating, a section on Divas, and one on Men (you know, as in, “Axe Murderers I Have Known,” but in Norton’s case, “Men I Have F———d”).
 
Some Quotable Quotes:
 
“In retrospect, I realise what a privilege it was to be exposed to such a varied and strangely cosmopolitan group [his Irish compatriots] at an early age, as it set me up to be able to talk to anyone and only be intimidated by a very few, as I made my way into the big, bad world” (49).
 
From “Divas,” after witnessing Liza Minelli sing: “I watched the show from a box to one side of the stage and was as captivated as everyone else. Sure, there were topey sections and she wasn’t the mover or vocalist she had been, but the whole evening was worth it for the moment when she sang a little snatch from ‘Somewhere Over the Rainbow’ for the first time in public [the signature song of her late mother, Judy Garland]” (145).
 
From “Men” Norton relates this cautionary tale from a friend named Ben: “He had just moved into the first flat he had ever bought and was understandably proud. He spent the afternoon assembling his new bed from Ikea and that night went out to celebrate. And what better way to mark this occasion than by christening his pristine bedroom? He met a man and invited him back. The were getting on very well and . . . had reached a point in the proceedings where a little help was needed, so Ben reached into his beside [sic] cabinet for the lube. They continued. Almost immediately, Ben sensed something was wrong. Things were quite uncomfortable, even painful. He tried to keep going but had to admit defeat. He turned on the light and discovered that he hadn’t taken lube from the drawer; he had in his hand a tube of wood glue” (237).
 
At any rate, I read this book aloud to my partner, and we both laughed and cried at very nearly the same events. We are amazed at two things about Graham Norton: one, how hard he laboured to get where he is today, and also how much he has accomplished by the age of fifty when this book is published. With his energy and creativity he easily has two more decades in the business if he wants them!

Up Next:
​TUES: A Writer's Wit | Rachel Carson

WEDS: A Writer's Wit | Meg Wolitzer
THURS: A Writer's Wit | John F. Kennedy
FRI: My Book World | Jonathan Lethem, The Feral Detective

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BURNETT TELLS SAD BUT SATISFYING STORY

5/16/2025

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A WRITER'S WIT
We are the most powerful nation in the world, but we're not the only nation in the world. We are not the only people in the world. We are an important people, the wealthiest, the most powerful and, to a great extent, generous. But we are part of the world.
​​Studs Terkel
Author of ​Working
​Born May 16, 1912
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S. Terkel

MY BOOK WORLD

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Burnett, Carol. Carrie and Me: A Mother-Daughter Love Story. New York: Simon, 2013.

In the actress’s storied life, Carol Burnett studied journalism while a young woman at UCLA. She’s intelligent, and such intelligence is evident through her writing. Her books are not (I assume) as-told-to books. She pens each one herself, and has only the light touch (I assume again) of a competent but kind editor. Why this introduction?
 
One might think that because Ms. Burnett is such a gifted comedian (comedienne in the old days, the Frenchiness of which I kind of liked) that her books are filled with mirth. They are. But this book, in particular, covers the beat of pathos in all its glory.
 
In her marriage to TV producer Joe Hamilton, Carol gives birth to three daugh . . . three beautiful daughters, like their mother! The first one is Carrie, and as an adolescent she sheds her wholesome, curious persona and becomes withdrawn and sullen. She begins to do poorly in school. She is on drugs. Carol and her husband do all they can to try to help her until they see their efforts are doing no good. Then they put her in rehab. When released from treatment, everything seems all right; only it isn’t. She finds drugs again (or they find her). Back into rehab she goes. Tough love is very difficult for Ms. Burnett, but she herself is a tough cookie. It was never beneath her to invite one of her co-stars to leave her show if he was unhappy; she did it kindly but she did it tough. It was not beneath her to sue the National Enquirer for publishing the false statement that she got drunk and started an argument with statesman, Henry Kissinger. She won.
 
The second rehab does take, and Carrie begins to pursue the artist’s life (in the broadest sense, including songwriting, fiction writing, and performing). She sustains a short marriage, and when it’s over she retains the cabin they’d shared in Gunnison, Colorado. It is her haven, her place to work and BE.
 
When symptoms indicate there is something wrong with Carrie’s health, doctors discover she has lung cancer (she names the tumor Yuckie Chuckie). Ms. Burnett weaves together the poignant story between her and Carrie by way of their emails, calls, and diaries. As a bonus to her readers, Carol includes Carrie’s short story, “Sunrise in Memphis.” The book is not to be missed, if you’re a fan of either woman.

Up Next:
​TUES: A Writer's Wit | Mary Pope Osborne

WEDS: A Writer's Wit |Alexander Pope
THURS: A Writer's Wit | Arthur Conan Doyle
FRI: My Book World | Graham Norton, The Life and Loves of a He Devil

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ALVAREZ EXPANDS MEANING OF AFTERLIFE

5/9/2025

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A WRITER'S WIT
Many human beings say that they enjoy the winter, but what they really enjoy is feeling proof against it.
​Richard Adams
Author of ​Watership Down
​Born May 9, 1920
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R. Adams

MY BOOK WORLD

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Alvarez, Julia. Afterlife: A Novel. Chapel Hill: Algonquin, 2020.

A woman in her sixties loses her husband, and she turns to her three sisters, on whom she has depended since her childhood. Afterlife is more than a novel title here; it is a motif formed over and over again. The woman must now figure out how to live her afterlife: life without her husband, life with weird, bothersome neighbors, life with insistent and sometimes needy sisters. Yet because of these numerous eruptions of life going on around her, she must adjust. She must help others in the midst of her own grief. In the end, after aiding one sister as well as a stranger in need (an undocumented pregnant teenager), she is able to settle down to her singular life, and she has earned it. But one gets the feeling that if the story were to continue, the woman would still be interrupted by others in need and she would indeed help them. That’s who she is. That is her life, her afterlife.

​Up Next:
​TUES: A Writer's Wit | Madeleine Albright

WEDS: A Writer's Wit | Eoin Colfer
THURS: A Writer's Wit | Lauren Myracle
FRI: My Book World | Carol Burnett, Carrie and Me: A Mother-Daughter Love Story

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LONG-AGO MURDER HISTORY UNCOVERED

5/2/2025

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A WRITER'S WIT
We have to unclutter our brains from worries that maybe people don’t like us. Women tend to worry about popularity; it doesn't matter if they like you. They need to respect you. They need to show that respect for you in your pay check. And that needs to be okay.
​Mika Brzezinski, NBC News
Author of ​All Things at Once
Born May 2, 1967
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M. Brzezinski

MY BOOK WORLD

Thompson, Wright. The Barn: The Secret History of a Murder in Mississippi. New York: Penguin, 2024.

This excellent narrative reveals the horrifying story of the murder of fourteen-year-old Emmett Till, in 1955. The author himself is from this region of the Mississippi delta, and part of the book is confessional, if not much of the tone. His only atonement, if that is the right word, for he doesn’t even learn of the murder until he is about to leave the state for college, is to research this story and present it to us, hopefully readers from around the world. 
    
Young Emmett begs his mother to leave Chicago and travel with a friend and his parents to Mississippi, where his mother grew up. Something tells her not to let him. It may be that his frank and prankish nature could get him into trouble, but in the end, he convinces her. There is so much that is not known, mostly because so many people lie about the situation. Some say the murder takes place in a particular barn. Others say not. Some stories indicate Emmett “whistles” at a young married white woman running the little store he and his cousin enter to buy snacks. Others say he may whistle but not “at” the woman.

We do know, however, for sure, the two men responsible for murdering the person who is but still a child. The duo are put on trial locally, and the jury sets them free. The only justice available may be that the local whites then quite hypocritically treat the two men like pariahs for the rest of their lives. Except for little jobs here and there, they can’t get regular work. Their wives leave them, and both of them eventually die of cancer, almost literally as if the stress of committing their bad deed has eaten them alive.
    
​The book is something for all Americans to consider, however, not just southerners or Mississippians. Nearly every state in the union has in some way treated blacks (and other minorities) just as cruelly in one way or another. We must not rely any longer on the thinking that because we weren’t present during times of slavery that we’re not responsible. What was termed Reconstruction must be completed for there ever to be any peace in this country. 

​Up Next:
​TUES: A Writer's Wit | Margaret C. Nussbaum

WEDS: A Writer's Wit | Ruth Prawer Jhabvala
THURS: A Writer's Wit | Edward Gibbon
FRI: My Book World | Julia Alvarez, Afterlife: A Novel
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MYTH OF NORMAL EXPLICATED

4/25/2025

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A  WRITER'S WIT
Our nation has had a long and unfortunate history of sex discrimination . . . rationalized by an attitude of “romantic paternalism” which,  in practical effect, put women not on a pedestal, but in a cage.
​William Joseph Brennan  
Author of Conscience of the Court
Born April 25, 1906
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W. J. Brennan

MY BOOK WORLD

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Maté, Gabor, with Daniel Maté. The Myth of Normal: Trauma, Illness and Healing in a Toxic Culture. New York: Avery, 2022.

Maté’s thesis is that Western medicine has assumed for a long time what is “normal,” and what is not. He contends that our physical and physiological lives are severely affected by what happens and what does not happen to us in our childhoods:
 
“Children, especially highly sensitive children, can be wounded in multiple ways: by bad things happening, yes, but also by good things not happening, such as their emotional needs for attunement not being met, or the experience of not being, seen and accepted, even by loving parents. Trauma of this kind does not require overt distress or misfortune . . . and can also lead to the pain of disconnection from the self, occurring as a result of core needs not being satisfied” (23).
 
This struck a chord (ha) with me concerning my childhood. My parents met my physical needs but didn’t have much sensitivity to my wishes to learn piano. I harped (ha ha) for four years on the topic until, at age ten, I was finally rewarded with lessons (and a $150 piano which I treasured). But their lack of interest in my “attunement” meant that they didn’t care much for my sensitivity as a musician, an artist, or human being. They kept trying to interest me in more “masculine” activities, meaning they did not accept me for who I was. It was a conditional “love,” if you want to call it that. My saving grace, through the years, thankfully, has been the help I received from three talented psychologists: one when I was twenty-four, one when I was in my fifties, and one I see currently in my seventies. Making myself more “loveable” to myself, I believe, made me less available to suffering major diseases or even middling chronic ones.
 
Maté’s contention is that most all disease is caused by mental or psychological stress that alters the body, making its autoimmune failure more likely one will suffer illness.
 
There is so much more that Dr. Maté offers to the reader in these 562 pages, but I do want to cite one statement he makes near the end of the book:
 
“At present there remains powerful resistance to trauma awareness on the part of the medical profession—albeit a resistance more subliminal than deliberate, more passive than active. In the dozens of interview I conducted with medical colleagues for this book,  including recent graduates, virtually one of them recalled being taught about the mind-body unity or the profusely documented relationship between, for example, trauma and mental illness or addictions—let alone the links between adversity and physical disease” (487).
 
I wish all adults in the world could read this book and be pushed to take care of their total health, not just the physical being (if that)—seek out doctors who do see a connection between the mental and physical body and treat their patients accordingly.

​Up Next:
​TUES: A Writer's Wit | Rod McKuen

WEDS: A Writer's Wit | John Boyne
THURS: A Writer's Wit | Lorene Scafaria
FRI: My Book World | Wright Thompson, The Barn: The Secret History of a Murder in Mississippi ​[Emmett Till]

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FINDING THE FOUNDING FISH

4/18/2025

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A WRITER'S WIT
I do not consider it an insult, but rather a compliment to be called an agnostic. I do not pretend to know where many ignorant men are sure—that is all that agnosticism means.
​Clarence Seward Darrow  
Author of Attorney for the Damned
Born April 18, 1857
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C. Darrow

MY BOOK WORLD

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McPhee, John. The Founding Fish. New York: Farrar, 2002.

This is the first I have read of the more than fifty books McPhee has published in his ninety-four years on earth, and I have to say it has been a revelation. I’m not one who fishes (maybe . . . for compliments, never the icky, slimy things that come out of the water), but I found this a fascinating history of the American shad. Its life cycle as both a saltwater and freshwater fish. Its boundless energy to overcome humanmade obstacles (dams for one). Its ability to rebound after a period of overfishing. Its delight as food (in spite of its many bones):
 
“When Alexander Wilson named this fish sapidissima in 1811, he was referring almost certainly to the nutty-buttery succulence of the main muscle, but the roe is the tongue of the buffalo, the tip of the asparagus, the cheek of the halibut, the marrow of the osso bucco” (295).
 
McPhee’s Appendix consists of nothing but recipes, one of which lists these ingredients:
 
      2 pounds shad
      1 pair roe
      1 tbs. chopped parsley
      Pepper, salt (if desired)
      1 tbs. butter
      Soft bread crumbs
      Clarified butter
      ½ cup sauterne
      1½ cup chopped mushrooms
      1 tsp. paprika (348)
 
Yet there are historic objectors to the art/craft/sport of fishing: “The poet Byron said it best: “[T]he art of angling [is] the cruelest, the coldest, and the stupidest of pretended sports” (313).
 
There you have it! McPhee covers both sides of the story, the equation, the diet!

​Up Next:
​TUES: A Writer's Wit | Ellen Glasgow

WEDS: A Writer's Wit | Barry Hannah
THURS: A Writer's Wit | Shirley MacLaine
FRI: My Book World | Gabor Maté, The Myth of Normal: Trauma, Illness, and Healing in a Toxic Culture

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