You know why this old photo of the Kinchens looks even more like a portrait to accompany a Poe story than previous installments? Because my mother was sent, and forwarded to me, a photocopy of the original photo. Never mind print shops, don’t bother with scanners. No, in my family, we’ll just slap that baby down on the Xerox machine. . . .
I’m trying not to go anywhere, drink too much, or read any books until I get past that deadline later this month, but a copy of Victor LaValle’s The Ecstatic just arrived, and I made the mistake of opening it. It’s hard to put down a novel that starts like this: They drove a green rented car into central New . . .
Next fall the great Marilynne Robinson will publish a new novel, Home, which includes characters from Gilead. (Thanks, Mark.)
My friend Amitava Kumar is too humble to trumpet his film about the Indian community in South Africa and its efforts to help overthrow Apartheid.
Eudora Welty inscribed a copy of Charles Portis’ Dog of the South and gave it to friends with thanks.