The gulf in experience between Grandma Spratt and me is captured in two words from her letter of July 18, 1977: “at Wisconsin.” She lived in the town of Darlington, England. When I was four, my parents, brother and I, who were all born there, moved
Memoir
Resisting Kafka
1 I’m walking up a busy avenue toward a famous intersection, perhaps Manhattan's Columbus Circle. Pausing at the quiet cross-street just before it, I think maybe I should turn left to avoid being noticed. But that’s paranoia speaking. I press
The Tie That Went to Harvard
The last time I was in the same room with Victor, at a college reunion, we avoided each other. I could hardly blame him. I’d failed to return his calls. But then, he’d stood me up not once, but twice. Victor (all names here are pseudonyms) and I
Texas
There were two uplifting stories out of Texas last week. Both began badly. After the mosque in Victoria, Texas, burned down, Jews from the town’s temple went around to one of the mosque’s founders and handed him the keys to the synagogue. (The fire’s
A Flawed Teacher’s Elegant Legacy
Can a teacher who is deficient at her subject be a lasting positive influence? We’ve all encountered experts who do harm. I had two science teachers who were knowledgeable in their field but who taught so badly, one even sadistically, that I still
Tricks of Memory
1 The tricks memory plays on us are not always cruel. For decades, I thought I remembered a lush Italian garden from a book of Aldous Huxley stories that a high school girlfriend liked to read aloud to me. It wasn’t an image, let alone an idea. It