Last week I caught up with 1935 and read It Can't Happen Here by Sinclair Lewis. It's the novel everyone is talking about these days because it tells the only story in town: that of a lying, cruel, bullying, sexist, racist demagogue who seduces the overlooked and underserved masses left behind by the everyday political... Continue Reading →
San Francisco: Places To Leave Your Heart
My old copy of Armistead Maupin's Tales of the City - one of the most joyful books of the twentieth century and the first part of a tremendous series of six similarly glorious volumes - is defective. For whatever reason, the frontispiece is missing. This means that it took me years to find out that... Continue Reading →