More on Cheever
I’ll pick up Vanity Fair this month for Wolcott’s review of the Cheever bio, a book my friend Lance won’t be reading. (See also.)
I’ll pick up Vanity Fair this month for Wolcott’s review of the Cheever bio, a book my friend Lance won’t be reading. (See also.)
His picture in my study at the court: Gopnick discusses the discovery, in England, of what some believe to be a new portrait of Shakespeare.
“I’m always sorry when I hear of your reading anything of mine, and always hope you won’t…” — Henry James to William.
Two additional novels and a document believed to be a sixth section of Roberto Bolaño’s 2666 have been found among the late writer’s papers.
John Updike, in his last-ever piece of book criticism, characterized Blake Bailey’s Cheever: A Life as a “heavy, dispiriting,” and dull read, both bloated and methodical, but I was riveted to every last depressing page. My review appears in Barnes & Noble Review. An excerpt: As conventions change and language shifts after an author’s death, his or her fiction tends . . .