Again, I am reading E.B. White. Having finished my umpteenth re-reading of One Man’s Meat, I’ve moved on to The Points of My Compass. Like One Man’s Meat, it feels like an old friend.
As with much of my non-fiction reading, it reminds me that my problems are not unique and my society’s struggles are not new. (I’m reminded especially of my reading of Langston Hughes’ writings a while back, and how sadly familiar were many of his themes). I’m both comforted and dismayed by the reminder.
I have a new “Accidental Critic” piece up at Escape Into Life, a review of the book Cast of Characters, which examines the early years of The New Yorker magazine.
I hope you find it interesting, insightful, or some combination of the two. Without giving away the punch line, I can tell you that the book hasn’t yet been returned to the library because my husband now wants to read some or all of it. Fortunately, it’s not yet overdue.
I followed up Cast of Characters by tracking down a collection of essays by (Oliver) Wolcott Gibbs, one of Harold Ross’ first and key hires at The New Yorker. I wanted to read his profile of Henry R. Luce, “Time… Fortune… Life… Luce,” which is most famous for one sentence in which Gibbs mocked the writing style in the Time magazine of his era: “Backward ran sentences until reeled the mind.” Continue reading
Yesterday, I said it had been quite a week for news. In fact, I can’t stop reading. This is a special edition, with news unrelated to James Comey or Russia. Continue reading
What a week for news. I’m still reeling from it. Make sure you didn’t miss any of the biggest stories: Here’s the New York Times‘ Saturday roundup, aptly titled, Having Trouble Keeping Up With All the Trump News? Here Are the Must-Reads.
Farmer’s market season opened today, and I was there, not particularly because I needed any produce but just on principle. Our local farmer’s market is a community gathering place, a neighborhood pub for summer Saturday mornings. It’s not summer yet, of course, but being there on opening day is a gesture of faith that someday it will be.
Several months ago, my husband and I began opening up our house on Sunday mornings to friends who want to join us for newspaper reading. I consider knowing what’s going on in the world a civic responsibility, an obligation I owe to myself, my community and my country. Setting aside time to read the Sunday papers is important to me, and encouraging my friends to do the same feels right as well.