I don’t remember the year exactly. It could have been 1965 or 1966. I do remember being in the fourth or fifth grade at Public School 30 on Staten Island. Certain things stand out. The neighbors with three blonde daughters … Continue reading Hank’s Wall
There I was, minding my own business at the end of Book V of the Aeneid, when I came across the word concussus. It means “stunned” as in a concussion. Virgil was using it to describe a sailor who had just discovered that his friend had fallen overboard during the night. I wanted to make sure I had it right, so I looked it up. That’s when I found, by chance, complexus. I do that a lot: wander around dictionaries, libraries, malls, cities. You can learn a lot that way. Just have good shoes and bus fare. What I read about … Continue reading Love Hurts
Not interested in Paulo Coelho, Fifty Shades of Grey, or Jonathan Franzen, my summer reading has consisted of The Aeneid. I have never read anything by Coelho or Franzen. I haven’t read Fifty Shades, either, not being interested in airport novels … Continue reading O, Mercury, Where Art Thou?