The New York Review Of Books
The Collected Stories of Lydia Davis
by Lydia Davis
Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 733 pp., $30.00
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Damion Searls has found and freed the lean, shapely and modern American classic inside the very definition of a "baggy monster." Henry David Thoreau'...
His name was François Baudot. He was an old friend I scarcely saw in the last months, but whose suicide at the age of 60 moves me deeply.
Certain Avatar viewers are leaving the movie depressed at their inability to access a world as spiritual and beautiful as Pandora. The problem is not Earth, but rather these viewers.
I don't disagree with Paul Krugman, but he is missing out on some big issues that also need to be discussed and understood before we actually know what is going on in our world.
The thing about beach books -- or even "beach books" -- isn't the total tonnage of the entire pile. It's the glow of the glorious possibilities.
When the novelist Jose Manuel Prieto left Cuba to spend a decade in Siberia, he could only fit a few books in his suitcase, so he packed several volum...
Listening to a president hard-pressed to get a sentence out without a goof, I believe we got lazy. But now we have a very smart first family and I don't want to be left behind.
The publishing industry is not, contrary to rumor, dead, thanks to people like you and your grand plans. This year I'm going to finally get around to reading X.
"How Far is the Ocean from Here," by Amy Shearn has to be the weirdest, funniest saddest road novel I've ever read. A single 20-something agrees to surrogate for a pair of cozy yuppies.
CBS News announced a new Presidential candidate interview series, beginning tonight, called "Primary Questions: Character, Leadership & the Candidates" wherein Katie Couric will pose ten Proust questionnaire-type questions to candidates.
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