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Archive for the 'American Literature' Category

I’m a faithless Internet surfer “visited on a lunar basis by these great unspecific waves” of bloglust. And that is all I can say in defense of such a belated response to Lionel Shriver’s WSJ article, “Missing the Mark.” Shriver’s opening argument explains why I think a rebuttal is still worth dishing out:
Literature is not [...]

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During our latest national holiday, P. and a carload of friends celebrated their labor achievements by illegally crawling into the soldiers’ bunks at Valley Forge National Park. (Steeped in civic religiosity, I desperately wished to hide until the commemorative photo shoot ended.) The two inspired to hike Valley Forge’s miles of protected “wilderness” were [...]

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I begin with a sheepish confession. For years I’ve put off reading Faulkner’s Light in August only to discover my misgivings naive. Blame it on self-inflicted exposure to Go Down, Moses in the seventh grade; I’ve avoided the 560-page Light in August since I was 13 (that’s right, its vanilla binding has been staring at [...]

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