Sasha might be enjoying reading the “About the Author” pages a smidge too much —

[This is all obviously off the top of my head. Hello, lazy weekend.] [And thanks to The Boyfriend for letting me borrow his Robert Lowell poetry books for yet another fuzzy book pictorial.] You know the whole la-dee-dah about letting the text speak for itself, the author being dead and all that jazz, the Not [...]

“It is still there, now a thick fog, and again only a light mist.” — Henry Dean’s Heavy Boots

When certain words touch you, because they're just so right, as approximately right as anyone can be about things like these. More from The New York Stories of Elizabeth Hardwick, more from my favorite story of the collection, "The Oak and the Axe," more from Henry Dean, more on that thing we have many names [...]

“What obstinacy in the air. A whole city built on obstinacy. Don’t yield.” — On reading The New York Stories of Elizabeth Hardwick

♦ I've spent several days now with The New York Stories of Elizabeth Hardwick, and it had to be slow-going, because she demanded I savor her. All the other books I'd planned on reading with her, gently replaced on the shelves. Hardwick wanted all of me, or nothing at all. I was all too happy [...]