Elizabeth and Hazel

Elizabeth and Hazel: Two Women of Little Rock
by David Margolick
New Haven : Yale University Press, c2011.

In September 1957, Central School in Little Rock, Arkansas, was court ordered to integrate. Nine black students were to attend. One of them, Elizabeth Eckford, walked alone and was turned away by National Guardsmen. During her walk, photographers captured her while white students behind. In particular focus was Hazel Massery, face contorted standing just behind Elizabeth in the picture. This is the story of that photograph and how these two women were forever impacted by that day.

David Margolick gives a much broader picture that the one photograph of that day, beginning with brief explanations of how Hazel and Elizabeth reached that point, and continuing with the story of what happened to the Little Rock Nine after they began at Central. While much of the Civil Rights era was before I was born and reads like history to me, both of these women experienced it and are still living, making the issues of race relations and prejudice all the more present and less historical in feel. It's a powerful story and one that leaves a lot to discuss:

• Should a person be defined by one moment?
• How would you have reacted as a student, either black or white?
• Can major breaches like these ever truly heal?

This one will stick with me for a long time.

Reading Lolita in Tehran

by Azar Nafisi
New York : Random House, 2008 (originally published 2003).

Azar Nafisi bookends her memoir with stories of her special class, a group of women who met at her house to talk about texts that were forbidden. Together they read Nabokov and Austen, Gatsby and Daisy Miller. In the middle is Nafisi's memories of involvement in the '70s revolution, teaching in the 1980s and 1990s, and the Islamic Republic taking away more and more freedoms.

I first read this book about ten years ago, and when I was looking for a new audiobook I thought it was a good time for a reread. Since the first time I read the book, my own knowledge of Iran has improved, and I've read another book or two that is covered in the text. There are four parts divided into several chapters; the chronology is confusing at best, and very often Nafisi chooses to forgo quotation marks. This was less noticeable in the audio, when I could tell from the narrator's voice who was talking, but it was frustrating to read. I enjoyed some of Nafisi's and her students' comments about the literature I've read, but now that I'm reasonably sure I won't read the others, I was less enthralled with the books I hadn't read and how she draws parallels or contrasts with her and her students' lives. And really, it was much less about the books than what I remembered. Nafisi writes much more about her personal experiences, and changes information about the students to protect their privacy (an understandable choice, but one which nonetheless kept me wondering what was "made up" and what was "real"). Recommended if you're interested in Iranian memoirs and literary criticism.

The Paris Review Interviews, IV

edited by Philip Gourevitch
Picador, 2009.

The fourth collection of author interviews printed in The Paris Review contains sixteen interviews, including those with William Styron, Jack Kerouac, E.B. White, P.G. Wodehouse, Maya Angelou, Haruki Murakami, Marilynne Robison, and more. The interviews are organized in chronological order, with the oldest published in 1954 and the most recent in 2008, just a year before this collection was printed.

The interviews are done in a variety of styles, from multiple meetings with an author to a live interview in front of an audience; in all cases, the authors are allowed to review the interview and edit, clarifying points before the interview sees print. This makes for a unique blend of artistry between the interviewer and author, as the conversation ranges from thoughts on writing and reading to politics and life in general. The type of writing the author is known for is identified at the beginning as "The Art of Fiction" or "The Art of Poetry," for example, and the interviewer frames the interview by outlining the writer's life and describing where they met and the conditions of the interview itself.

I received this book for my birthday three years ago. I started reading it immediately, but slowed down when I reached the fourth interview, that of E.B. White. He was identified as a writer of essays, while I only knew him as the author of Charlotte's Web and the other children's books. I thought I'd read his entire oeuvre has a child. So, before I read the interview, I had to first read a book of his essays. I didn't stop to read any other author's works before reading their interviews, but I was most interested in those of authors I've read. I loved Maya Angelou's, which was the one done in front of an audience. I was intrigued by the personal look into Marilynne Robinson's life and work, having read her three fiction titles. Though I expected to enjoy the authors I was familiar with, I was surprised at how much I was interested in the interview with Stephen Sondheim, as he talked about the art of writing musicals. There is such a variety of authors and opinions in here, that I can confidently say there's something for anyone interesting in authors and the writing process.

At Home: A Short History of Private Life

by Bill Bryson
New York : Doubleday, c2010.

Bryson lives (lived?) in a former rectory in England, and one day had the idea of going through every room in the house and researching the history of something related to that room: trade for the kitchen, food for the dining room, sex for the bedroom, etc. What follows is a social history much in the same vein as A Short History of Nearly Everything was for science, ranging all over the place in topic but surprisingly coming back around with interesting connections to mid-19th century England and some of the amazing changes going on in simply living during the Industrial Revolution.

At 452 pages (not counting bibliography and index), this is the longest and most dense book that I've read for my library book discussion, but I'm glad I persevered. It's an entertaining popular history using primarily secondary sources with, as Bryson is known for, many tangents, humor, and interesting tidbits thrown in for good measure. Unlike many of his books, At Home is on the denser side of pop history. There is a lot of information thrown into this book, and I found myself forgetting what I'd read before and being surprised when a name later in the book carried a reference to a previous chapter, something that you'd think might happen less in a book that ranges over such diverse topics as sex, food, trade, childhood, and more. Except for this fact, each chapter is rather disparate in subject to the extent that you could get away with skipping to the parts you're most interested in and not losing much context along the way. Bryson is sometimes criticized for not having notes; this book has them, albeit online instead of in the text. His extensive bibliography ensures the possibility of follow up for any subject that may particularly catch your fancy.

The Wall: Growing Up Behind the Iron Curtain

by Peter Sis
New York : Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2007.

Using simple pictures with little color to great effect, Peter Sis tells his story of growing up in Czechoslovakia when the country was behind the Iron Curtain. Ostensibly for children, the book doesn't hold back from exploring the complexities of living under a Communist regime. The author shows how he was brainwashed as a child and told what to draw, and follows him through his teenage years when he awakened to much of the censorship and control going on around him.

This book is an excellent example of the way in which a story can be powerfully told in graphic form. The Introduction and Afterword serve as the text that grounds the story in history - both the general history of the Cold War, and Peter's personal history as he eventually leaves his home country behind. The images make up the bulk of the story, giving a bird's eye view as we very quickly go through twenty or so years of Peter's life and in how small the elements of the illustrations are. Most of the illustrations are black and white, except for the red of Communist flags and the colors of Peter's art. Clips from his journals serve both to move the story along through time and to give readers a fuller view of what's going on in Peter's life, including such things as the music that influenced him and photographs from his childhood. This is a really excellent, rich story that I highly recommend.

A Yankee Spy in Richmond

diary by Elizabeth Van Lew
edited and with an introduction by David Ryan
Mechanicsburg, PA : Stackpole Books, 1996.

Elizabeth Van Lew lived in Richmond, Virginia, and was educated in the North. She believed slavery was wrong and was loyal to the Union, giving much of her life and inheritance in furthering the Union cause. In particular, she spied and gave information on troop movement and supplies, and worked to better the conditions and protect escapees from Libby Prison. This is her wartime diary, incomplete at least in part due to her own vigilance in getting rid of evidence that could have incriminated her.

I first heard of this when reading my LibraryThing Early Reviewer copy of The Secrets of Mary Bowser. Mary was a former slave at the Van Lew residence, and was instrumental in Elizabeth's and Thomas McNiven's spy network. Unfortunately, perhaps due to Elizabeth's care in destroying documents or the way the diary was buried for years, very little mention is made of anything connected to Mary Bowser, and only a little more is included of Elizabeth's own spying (primarily letters inserted that have innocuous messages on their face, but a request for information once heat and acid is applied to the document).

The Introduction pretty much covers the most interesting parts of the diary, and it's hard to follow what happened because it's such a truncated account. You do, however, get a window into the mindset of Elizabeth Van Lew, who saw her work as being loyal to her country (rather than her state), and definitely saw the point of the Civil War as ending slavery. She was appalled by the treatment of Union soldiers. She had deep convictions and her behavior mirrored what she believed, even though it made her extremely unpopular in her hometown. The inclusion of letters at the end, both by and about Elizabeth Van Lew, round out the picture of her life. Recommended if you're interested in the historic time period or place.

I Can't Complain: (all too) personal essays

by Elinor Lipman
Boston: Houghton Mifflin Harcourt, 2013.

Ever since I read The Inn at Lake Devine in 2009, Elinor Lipman has been one of my "go to" authors when I need some light and fun fiction. So when I saw she'd come out with a book of essays - many of them previously published in various newspapers/periodicals - I had to check it out.

These thirty-one essays composed of broad subjects - family, writing, love & marriage - are truly delightful reading. She's funny one moment and making a thoughtful point the next, and even though she's in a different season of life than I am, her observations made me laugh and cry. I could completely relate to "No Thank You, I Think," in which she talks about why she now says "no" to some invitations. I, too, sometimes want to say "no" just to sit at home and read, and it was nice to know that someone else can not only admit it, but says so with aplomb. In one section, she talks about many aspects of being a writer, from looking for (and providing) blurbs, to the anxieties and frustrations involved in being the author at an event. Her essays about her husband, from a Coupling column she wrote regularly as the "long married" woman, were funny and heartwarming. A highly enjoyable read for anyone who enjoys humorous essays or getting to know a favorite author.

Before Freedom, When I Can Just Remember

selected and edited by Berlinda Hurmence
Winston-Salem, N.C. : J.F. Blair, c1989.

During the Great Depression, one of the Federal Writers' Project activities was locating former slaves and interviewing them. The resultant collection of these oral histories has been microfilmed by the Library of Congress, the Slave Narratives, which make up seventeen volumes (10,000 pages) of material. In this volume of a publisher's series of the oral histories, twenty-seven of these narratives of former slaves have been chosen giving a range of views on slavery in South Carolina.

The introduction by Belinda Hurmence is worthwhile reading before diving in to the interviews. She mentions that many former slaves talk positively about their experiences, and offers a few ideas on why this is so - looking back on the past often gives us a rosier view, the Great Depression, and the fact that a black person is being interviewed by a white person all probably had an impact to varying degrees on what the former slave would say about his or her experiences. Even so, when you read between the lines about how a master might treat his slaves, a person's memories of being sold or parents being whipped, it's heartbreaking no matter what the person says about their master being kind or "not hardhearted."

The interviews are taken from various places around the state of South Carolina, including the islands, and covers the experience of field hands and house slaves, men and women, who were children during the Civil War. I'm not quite sure why the editor decided to shift things chronologically, however, because I think that the way someone says something and the order they put it in gives it a meaning on its own, regardless of the actual chronology of events. Even so, I found these interviews a fascinating exploration of slavery from those who experienced it themselves; this is worthwhile reading for any student of American history.

Into the Looking-Glass Wood

by Alberto Manguel
San Diego, CA : Harcourt, 2000.

I was first introduced to Alberto Manguel's essays through The Library at Night, an homage to libraries private and public, and a rumination on reading including philosophy, history and literary criticism. Into the Looking-Glass Wood is similar in erudition and style but, much like the book from which he takes its name, its topics are all over the place. In this, you will see more of the man and perhaps a little less of the reader.

Libraries and books are my passion, so naturally I feel more drawn to a book where every essay is about that, and one theme builds on another in a natural progression. That's not to say that I didn't enjoy this collection: "St. Augustine's Computer," a rumination on the tension between books and technology, is worth the price of the book alone, and "Taking Chesterton at His Word" caused me to download a few of that author's books on my e-reader to rectify the fact that I've read nothing by G.K. Chesterton. It simply means that, as a different person with different interests from Manguel's, I was less than enthralled with some essays that had very little meaning or interest for me, personally. Another reader may appreciate more than I the essay on erotic literature or would have read Richard Outram to more ably connect with what Manguel had to say about him. So though I found it to be a mixed bag, I can fairly confidently recommend it to readers of books about books with the suggestion that there's something for everyone, and it's worthy of thought and discussion long after reading.

Lost in Shangri-La

by Mitchell Zuckoff
New York : HarperCollins, 2011.

A plane crash in New Guinea during World War 2 leaves a few survivors in a remote valley nicknamed "Shangri-La." The natives, rumored to be cannibals, have been isolated from the modern world and may have never seen a white person before. Meanwhile, back on the base in Hollandia, military personnel have a hard task before them in figuring out how to rescue the injured survivors.

Journalist Mitchell Zuckoff brings together interviews, one of the survivor's shorthand diary, military documents, photographs, and more to tell the story of the survivors and the native people involved in this fascinating tale of survival and rescue. He incorporates detail without sacrificing the pace of the narrative, and clearly made the effort to include the natives' perspectives of the events: he isn't writing from an anthropological perspective, but he strikes me as presenting a balanced view.

This was my second time reading it, and it was just as interesting to read as it was the first time.

The Book that Changed My Life

edited by Diane Osen
New York : Modern Library, 2002.

This collection of interviews with fifteen National Book Award winners and finalists highlights the award-winning books and investigates the books that influence these writers of fiction, nonfiction, and poetry. The interviews are with James Carroll, Don DeLillo, E.L. Doctorow, Charles Johnson, Diane Johnson, Philip Levine, Davis Levering Lewis, Barry Lopez, David McCullough, Alice McDermott, Cynthia Ozick, Grace Paley, Linda Pastan, Katherine Paterson, and Robert Stone, and are organized alphabetically by last name. All of them are followed by a list of the author's books through 2002 (when this book was published), and all but one include a list of works that influenced the author, some of which are usually mentioned in the interview.

I appreciated the variety of authors and their approach to writing represented in this collection. I started making a list of all the books mentioned at the end so I could see which titles are mentioned repeatedly, and I added a few of the authors to my ever-growing TBR list. My enjoyment of these interviews was slightly hampered by the fact that I've only read books by three of the authors highlighted (Katherine Paterson, David McCullough and E.L. Doctorow) and had only read the award-winning book for one (The Great Gilly Hopkins). Some of the questions deal with the winning or finalist book, and little care is taken to prevent spoilers, making this a difficult way to discover a new-to-you author. Diane Osen has clearly done her homework by reading the entire oeuvre of the interviewed author as well as the books that influenced them; this comes through in the interviews positively in that she's able to ask very interesting, probing questions, but on the flip side it's more challenging for the reader who doesn't have that same background to follow along with the answers. A mixed bag, but I'm glad I read it.

The Butterfly Mosque

by G. Willow Wilson
New York, N.Y. : Atlantic Monthly Press, c2010.

Willow becomes intrigued with Islam while a college student. She takes Arabic, moves to Egypt to work as a teacher, and quietly converts. Then, she meets a young man named Omar and falls in love.

This memoir of an American convert to Islam is as complex as Willow's (or, when you think about it, perhaps anyone's) identity. She thinks deeply about a lot of things, reflecting on the variety of Muslim beliefs, what makes a terrorist, and the attitude of the West towards Islam, all while telling her very personal story. The first half of the book, when she talks about her courtship with Omar, was the smoothest part of the read for me. While I'm a Christian, I could relate to the way she talked about her faith and her assurance in it. The rest of the book is less fluid, a string of occurrences I had trouble placing in time, and started to feel more like a lecture than a memoir. I disliked her tendency to say "even the most liberal," which seemed to suggest that someone of a conservative persuasion couldn't possibly see a Muslim as anything but a terrorist, while the liberals at least tried to understand, even if they didn't always get it right. Of course, it's a complex issue, and I certainly can't argue with her personal experience. I found it eye-opening and compelling reading, and am very much looking forward to reading her first novel, Alif the Unseen.

Hallucinations

by Oliver Sacks
New York : Alfred A. Knopf, 2012.

In his newest book Oliver Sacks, a practicing physician known for such books as The Man Who Mistook His Wife for a Hat and Musicophilia, turns his attention to hallucinations. While in popular culture we tend to think of hallucinations as being psychoses and in the realm of insanity, he focuses primarily on the sort of neurological disorders that sane people have. In fact, hallucinations may not be as odd as we think - haven't we all felt like there was someone behind us, or heard our name even when no one was around?

Primarily organized around types of hallucinations - visual, aural, parkinsonian, phantom limbs, etc. - the book is a fascinating blend of history and case study. Perhaps I was most fascinated to discover the types of hallucinations that I've had, mostly as a child, when I was in that state between sleep and wakefulness and "saw" someone by my bed or in my room. There are other, less common, hallucinations explored, too, and I really enjoyed when he brought up the results of fMRI scans done during hallucinations. The connections between what one experiences and what goes on the brain intrigues me, and I'll definitely be looking to read some of Sacks' earlier works.

Travels with Charley

by John Steinbeck
New York, N.Y., U.S.A. : Penguin Books, 1997 (originally published 1962).

Right from the beginning, Steinbeck admits to always having a bit of wanderlust and a desire to travel. This particular trip is brought on by his realization that, for all his writing about America, he hadn't actually been outside his small corner of it for some time. So, he buys a truck specially made for his trip, equipped with everything he will need (ie., booze), takes his trusty poodle Charley, and hightails it out of New York on a cross-country trip.

This is a short book that contains much to think about. You might think that reading about a trip taken over fifty years ago would have little to say about our country and Americans today, but you would miss a lot if you focused on that aspect alone. Steinbeck recounts specifics of his journey and conversations with individuals, yes, but this is also a rumination on the human spirit - particularly the American spirit. The book has many passages that are even more relevant today than they were then (his thoughts on change, the growth of cities, and regional speech differences come immediately to mind). Steinbeck's journey is as much a quest and a window into his own internal world as it is a discovery of his country. His observations are witty, often humorous, and always thought-provoking. I found myself lingering over a sentence or paragraph here and there, wanting to draw out my reading experience instead of just finishing the book quickly and ticking it off. Whether you enjoy travel narratives, a book group choice, or just plain good, descriptive writing, I highly recommend this book.

How to Read Literature Like a Professor

by Thomas Foster
New York : Quill, c2003.

Ever had an English class where you wondered, "How on earth does the professor come up with this interpretation stuff?" Though Thomas Foster himself is a college professor, he clearly remembers what it was like to be a high school or college undergrad reader. In short chapters, he engagingly and clearly explains some of the motifs, symbols, and patterns one can look for and expect when reading.

I truly wish that I had read this informative and entertaining book when I was in college. I was an English major, but I didn't buy a good fourth of what I wrote in my papers, feeling like I was reading too much between the lines. The main issue for me was "How could the author have possibly meant ---- or been reacting to ---- ? How do you know?" I never felt that my English professors answered this satisfactorily, but in one chapter, Foster does: since stories are, at their core, interconnected, an author may have read (and reacted to) one book that was informed by a previous one. Even if the author never intended the connection to the original story, his or her writing has indeed been affected by it because of that later book the author meant to refer or react to (I'm not explaining this very well, but trust me, Foster does).

I may never read quite like an English professor (I think it would take multiple readings of any text to do so). But, his attitude that it's OK to enjoy the story at its most literal level and not pick up on every nuance or have exactly his interpretation made me think that I could be a better reader than I have been, and has inspired me to read more texts that take a reader's effort to fully appreciate.

The Violinist's Thumb

by Sam Kean
New York : Little, Brown and Co., 2012.

Sam Kean, the author of The Disappearing Spoon, a book about the periodic table of elements, now turns his attention to genetics and evolution. In The Violinist's Thumb, he takes a non-technical approach to recounting the history of genetic inquiry and the various information we can learn about ourselves through our DNA. Covering Mendel to Watson, viruses to hominids, and throwing in many a funny story to boot, Kean writes an entertaining look at many aspects of genetics.

Though at times I found his approach a little too basic and I wished greatly for footnotes. At times, Kean seemed to gloss over potentially complicated discussions, making me wonder if he was oversimplifying here and there in the interest of narrative clarity. More than once, he stepped on my religious toes whilst trying to be funny. But for the most part, this is an engaging account about a fascinating subject. Kean does a good job of taking what could potentially be a very difficult, dry, or technical topic and making it accessible. His real-life historical examples of crazy experiments or historic people with genetic disorders add vivacity and relevance to the various topics he covers.

Oh and by the way, there's an Easter egg in the text that I had incredible fun trying to figure out. Good luck!

The Elegant Universe

by Brian Greene
W.W. Norton and Co., 2003.

Relativity and quantum mechanics both help us understand the universe, but in some cases the equations involved don't play nice and come up with nonsensical answers. Superstring theory (or string theory for short) is a "theory of everything" that attempts to better explain the universe. The gist of the theory is that instead of particles (electrons, quarks, etc.), the smallest units are, in fact, vibrating one-dimensional strings. In The Elegant Universe, Greene expands on the basics to explain in fairly non-mathematical language what the possible ramifications would be.

I admit, I probably would not have been able to finish this book if I hadn't had help from an engineer. I never took physics in school, though I'm fascinated by the subject and have read a handful of popular science books on the topic. In the first few chapters, Greene details what has gone on in physics before, from our changing understanding of gravity, to special and general relativity. In chapter 5, he switches gears and lays out the basics of string theory. Chapter 7 on gets more and more speculative as Greene explores supersymmetry, black holes, how 10 dimensions could exist, and more. He is a definite proponent of the theory, and is not always clear about what is a core part of string theory or what is a fun mathematical possibility within the theory. Still, it was entertaining to read and a mind-stretching experience. I will be very interested in seeing what the next decade brings to the search for a theory of everything.

The End of Your Life Book Club

by Will Schwalbe
New York : Alfred A. Knopf, 2012.

Will Schwalbe's memoir is a unique tribute to his mother, Mary Anne, a strong woman who worked tirelessly to help others, and who was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. One day during her chemo treatment, Will asked, "What are you reading?" So the two-person book club was born, as Will and his mother discuss books they both read over the course of Mary Anne's treatments.

The books are just a starting point for larger discussions of life, courage, love, and so much more. Each chapter is the title of a book, whether the book they're discussing or one that thematically ties into the subject of the chapter. Will intersperses memories of the past with the treatments and his mother's decline, painting a picture of a really wonderful woman I feel I came to know - just a little bit - through her son's eyes. The book is sweet but not saccharine, sad but hopeful. I plan on sharing it with my own mother to discuss with her.

More Baths Less Talking

by Nick Hornby
San Francisco, CA : Believer Books, [2012].

In this collection of "Stuff I'm Reading" columns that Nick Hornby writes for the Believer magazine, he is back after a hiatus of, well, not writing such columns, that he finished in Shakespeare Wrote for Money. The essays in More Baths Less Talking cover about a year and a half (May 2010 to November/December 2011) of reflections on what he's read. Each column starts out with two lists - books bought and book read - followed by an essay filled with humor, his life, and most of all books.

I love these columns. There are now four books in the series that can be read in any order, but it is fun to pick up a new book and remember past columns to which he occasionally refers. While Hornby's taste is generally quite different from mine, I nevertheless always add a book or two to the ever-growing to be read list while dipping into these collections. Mostly, though, I just enjoy getting into the head of another reader, someone who loves books as much as I do and who can write about it in a cogent, interesting, and funny way. Reading these books always leaves me wishing I could write my own column like that, but I know I could never do it as well. I shall have to settle for reading (and rereading) Nick Hornby's columns, and wishing that the columns and his books were longer.

Game Day

Game day : sports writings, 1970-1990
by Thomas Boswell
New York : Doubleday, 1990.

Thomas Boswell is a veteran writer for the Washington Post whom I never would have heard of if it hadn't been for a friend of mine. Despite the fact that he will only read an actual book if it's not available on the Kindle, he happens to be one of the only people I know in person who reads anywhere close to what I read in a year (and he claims it's only one fifth of what I read). So, every now and then I'll ask him what he's reading, and a month and a half ago, this was it. At least, I'm about 80% sure I got the author right. But regardless of whether or not I actually picked up the same book or author, the fact remains that I would not have chosen to read this book if it had not been for my friend's recommendation.

Boswell covers football, basketball, boxing, golf, the Olympics, tennis, and baseball. I watch the first and the last three, so of course found those the most interesting, while the middle dragged a little for me. But my friend described this as a book about various sports that had the most words he'd ever have to look up in the dictionary. I admit that was the selling point for me; I am a sucker for learning new words. Though I spent the first 100 or so pages wondering what he was talking about, in the remaining pages I wrote down a dozen or so to look up, from words I'd never read before, such as ectomorph (an individual with a slender, lean body, a slight build), to words I didn't know specific to a sport, such as a dogleg in golf (crooked or bent like a dog's hind leg as in "a sharp dogleg bend in the fairway"). What my friend didn't tell me was the Boswell has a bit of a philosophical bent, too, from ruminating on the way in which talking about sports has become the American way of talking about deep thoughts of morals and politics when it just appears to be about "only a game," to his sounding off on our tendency to demonize athletes when they make a mistake. He references classical mythology, John Updike, Moby-Dick, and Emily Dickinson (actually, he didn't just reference her, he had two of her poems in one article).

I had a mixed reaction overall. When I was reading about the sports I didn't really care about, I found myself characterizing the book as something that my friend was interested in professionally (he's a local sportswriter himself), and not something that I could see appealing to the general public. I almost put the book down multiple times - I like sports, but 300+ pages of sports columns is quite a commitment. But about two thirds of the way into the book, I started 1. finding more new words and 2. settled into a rhythm where I found myself enjoying the smart references and vivid descriptions. And, the truth is, once I got to the Olympics, I was back in sports I was interested in. Would I recommend it? Not for the casual fan. But if you follow a variety of sports, know your 1970s to 90s sports history, or are interested in sports journalism in general, then yes, this was an engaging, smart collection that you may find thought-provoking.