On Books I Lie About Having Read

I have read Heart of Darkness. This is not a lie, but it was until yesterday.  Last month, Robert McCrum, in a short blog post in the Guardian, asked readers to share the most embarrassing gaps in their reading, as he himself trundled off on vacation with an unread copy of Middlemarch in tow.  The [...] reputable online casinos australia

In Search of Sir Vidia

Lately I’ve been on a Naipaul kick, which is strange because I don’t particularly like his writing.  It was an odd case of reading the novels to understand the biography, rather than the other way around.  I’d been curious about Patrick French’s The World Is What It Is, the Naipaul bio of a couple years [...]

The Twisted Tenderness of Otto Dix

The first image I faced at the Neue Galerie’s Otto Dix show was a wan, watercolor portrait of a man with a half-maimed face.  I recoiled before turning back to study it more closely.  Dix’s work often does not reward extended viewing—the longer you stare, the more horror emerges. In this case, I found myself [...]