Too many books are forgotten as soon as they're published—that doesn't mean they're not worth reading, writing, or talking about. My reading list is generated by interest, whim, and chance—and by what's available at the Brooklyn Public Library.
When writing my reviews, I don’t Google anything about the book or author. To draw my impressions, I rely only on the book itself.
By now, in the 21st Century, is there any aspect of American life that hasn’t been touched by corruption? What shocked in 1963, when The American Way of Death, Jessica Mitford’s exposé of the funeral industry in 20th Century America, was published, wouldn’t cause an American alive today to so much as bat an eyelash, so accustomed are we to shock and scandal. What will jolt us from our moral stupor?
“To choose to live with a dog,” Mark Doty writes at the start of Dog Years: A Memoir, “is to agree to participate in a long process of interpretation—a mutual agreement, though the human being holds most of the cards.” In moving but restrained prose, Doty reveals the cards held closest to his chest: his feelings about loving and losing his canine companions, Arden and Beau.