November 27, 2024
- Daniel Felsenthal on the letters of Joe Brainard
- Are readers and publishers are turning away from memoir?
- On the controversy of 1974’s shared Booker Prize
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“White everywhere. Mist so thick it obliterates colors and edges. Up on the quarterdeck, our captain looks like an artist’s afterthought.”
“Elfrieda is so thin, her face so pale, that when she opens her eyes it is like a surprise attack, like one of those air raids that turns night to day. I ask her if she remembers that time she and I sang a really slow aching version of “Wild Horses” for a group of elderly Mennonite nursing home residents.”
“Today a rare sun of spring. And horse carts clanging to the quays down Tara Street and the shoeless white faced kids screaming.”