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American Life
Since democracy is dead in New York, I write in dead persons
The fringes of fame, the outer purlieus of power, are always much more interesting than the epicenter
‘My forty-five-year-old self is inhabiting my nine-year-old body’
When I go on an early 1970s jag — revisiting the golden age of American cinema — I can never bring myself to rewatch Five Easy Pieces
The writer has made a literary reputation on his fluid narratives of late eighteenth and nineteenth-century Southern history
Is it possible to love a science, or any branch of knowledge, despite one’s abysmal ignorance thereof?
That’s all he played, one single game, and it took him almost a century to get credit for it
Mine are for things undone, unmade, untold. They’re hardly earth-shattering, but still…
Pat Weissend’s interest in US presidents was sparked in his boyhood by little effigies his aunt gave him
Two decades after the camera tycoon entered the last darkroom, Henry Clune published a thinly veiled roman-à-clef about the morose magnate
