The Solace of a Half-Empty Photo Album

      It was about six months after the death of my mother that I finally mustered the courage to organize all the boxed and scattered family photos she left behind. Walking into a boutique, upscale stationery store, I spotted an embossed leather photo album hand-crafted in Italy. Its price shot way over my […]

Who Is Afraid of the Bible?

        The Good Book has gained so much critical mass as a required read in U.S. public schools—most notably in Oklahoma, Texas, and Louisiana—that we could almost mistake it for a Marvel Movie franchise if not for its age. One of the first symptoms of texts as old as the Bible is […]

The Headband Makes a Comeback

    Awful, that I had forgotten all about Carolyn Bessette-Kennedy, wife of John F. Kennedy Jr. and killed alongside him in that horrific plane crash. She was thirty-three years old. Also stunning, and a former publicist for Calvin Klein. Now I read that in one of fashion’s weird spirals, she has become, posthumously, a […]

How to Get Along in the Universe

        I was down at the Friends of the Library sale again. A big literature anthology called to me from the shelf, “Hey you. Six hundred pages of Kazakh poetry here, hardbound, commissioned by the Ministry of Culture and Sport of the Republic of Kazakhstan, by the dictate of Elbasy Nursultan Nazarbayev, […]

Turner’s Fire For Our Time

        English poetry is rife with metaphors concerning fire, if for the chief reason that language makes fire safe while adding dimension to its fascination. It is redundant to remind ourselves that the ancients considered fire one of four crucial elements but also useful. Fire is the great destroyer but also a […]

The Age of Subtraction

      When Stephen Sondheim flew into town to accept the St. Louis Literary Award, my friend Lana Pepper, then president of the organization bestowing the prize, planned a dinner for him. Upon learning that Sondheim only drank vodka, Lana, the quintessential host, drove all over town in a frenzy, because the only vodka […]

The Mouse That…Squeaked

    It starts with a scritching noise that, like a demonic possession, seems to be coming from inside the walls. Then, anticlimax: we find a scattering of dark brown droppings in the bathroom cabinet. We are only dealing with Satan’s small gray minions. Andrew picks up a shredded pile of white cotton: “What’s this?” […]