I don’t think Frederic Raphael has pinpointed Graham Greene’s motives as fully as he believes he has.
Day two home from work with a killer cold, and my only consolation is novelist Kate Christensen’s hot toddy. Since she passed it along last fall, the drink has eclipsed spicy tomato soup as the Maud household’s preferred remedy. It proves — as we always knew deep in our hearts — that Bourbon cures everything. Add boiling water to . . .
Critics assail the transcription of Robert Frost’s notebooks. William Logan calls it a scandal.
Police reports based on years of surveillance give a detailed account of Alexander Pushkin’s life. (Via.)