Prose

Venetophilia: The Desire and Pursuit of Venice. Just finished Judith Martin's wonderful No Vulgar Hotel, which I have been dipping into for several months now. I wish it went on forever. Read more about Venetophilia

I seldom recommend books I haven't read, but on reading this review in the NYT this morning, I can't help but believe that Sonya Sotomayor's will be well worth reading.
Read more about Sight Unseen

There have been a few stories about stories lately. Last weekend - i.e., the weekend before the one we just survived - UP with Chris Hayes featured Oliver Stone talking about , the companion book to the Showtime series of the same name. Read more about What's the Story Here?

It hasn't been often that a book on something like landscape architecture sticks in my mind as solidly as has , by Ian McHarg. Read more about Design With Nature

On New Year's Eve I went, as I have gone for the past decade or more, to St. Mark's Episcopal Cathedral here in Seattle to walk the labyrinth. Each last day of the calendar year, the folks at St. Mark's push aside the two central tiers of pews and spread a tarpaulin carpet on the floor imprinted with a replica of the labyrinth that is carved in stone into the floor of Chartres Cathedral in France. Read more about The Blank Page

"Were there Uncles like in our house?"
"There are always Uncles at Christmas"

In my little corner of the universe, almost everybody gets a book for Christmas. The following are some of my favorites, all but mine published more than ten years ago.

Barbara Stoner. Yes. I'm suggesting my very own, because I think it's actually a very good first novel. Luckily, most of my readers think so too.

In the December issue of Opera News, Brian Kellow wrote, in On the Beat, about an opera he imagines. He calls Jean Rhys's novel, , a "novel that sings." I have yet to read Wide Sargasso Sea, and if I were prone to hairshirts, I suppose I should slip one on for this transgression. Read more about How Cool Would This Be?

You can pick up the damndest tidbits just driving around in the car, as I was doing this morning listening to a lecture from The Great Courses on Boethius and . The lecturer was going on about the concept of consolation at work in this, that and the other work of Great Lit and I was nodding along (but not off) when my ears pricked up.

J.R.R. Tolkien? Really? Read more about The Consolation of Galadriel

THEN I SAW THE CONGO, CREEPING THROUGH
THE BLACK,
CUTTING THROUGH THE JUNGLE WITH A
GOLDEN TRACK.