Isn't it funny what reading in a group does to your bookish brain? I'd been happily reading along in Sean Manning's Bound to Last: 30 Writers on Their Most Cherished Book, dipping in and out, choosing random essays depending entirely on my mood. But then came Once Upon a Time
Sterling North's Rascal (1963) Illus. John Schoenherr (1971) "It was in May, 1918, that a new friend and companion came into my life: a character, a personality, and a ring-tailed wonder." That's Rascal, when 11-year-old Sterling pulls him from his mother's nest one May. Sterling and his friend, Oscar, and his Saint
When I run up against the term 'modernism' I turn the other way. (I don't know why, but I think it has something to do with Ulysses.) But, when I come across the term 'romantic' I turn back. (I know the reason for this: it lies with the epigraph to Possession, which
Not in your neighbourhood, right? When you think about trafficking, you think of "Thai girls in shackles", or "Russian girls held at gunpoint by the mob", or "illegal border crossings, fake passports, and captivity". You don't think of Americans trafficking Americans; that doesn't happen to American girls. You
Harper Collins, 2011 Peggy Orenstein's to start with. But Cinderella has consumed countless little girls, and she has not yet had her fill. And that's not only speaking of the Grimm Brothers version of "Cinderella". Though readers know there are far grimmer versions (certainly gorier, with stepsisters lopping
