In my freshman year in college, I discovered The Communist Manifesto was on my reading list.  After years of hearing the book was pure evil, I gasped.  A few pages into the material, however, and  I learned what I’d been told was nonsense. What’s wrong comaraderie?  Coca-Cola

A pet peeve of mine is “the critic,” even though I might qualify as one because I’ve scribbled a few lines about a book or two.  But I’m not talking about ordinary people expressing an opinion.   I’m talking about professionals who make a living posturing as literary expe

On October 26, 1971, Claire Booth Luce — former member of Congress, Ambassador to Italy, advisor to Presidents, author of several books and the successful play, The Women, as well as being a recipient of the Presidential Medal of Honor  —  found herself on a platform wit

I don’t care for Joyce Carol Oates’ writing. Her style I shall call “lumpacious” — an excess of words and arthritic phrasings put to the service of despair and gloom without a ray of humor. Nonetheless, I struggle to keep an open mind; so when I came upon her short ficti