Confession. I only checked this book out because a friend asked if I was on the cover. I am pretty sure it is not me, as I would never be caught dead wearing those harem pants. But I am really enjoying the essays. It is filled with real nail-biters like, "t.s. Eliot and the Jews" and "the mind of al gore" but the essays are written with such clarity and precision, marked with great humor and an intellectual curiosity not muddled with academic pomposity. I usually find most cultural essayists onerous bores, but I get the sense that Menand would be a great dinner guest. Plus it makes me feel smug to read it on the subway. I keep my "hunger games trilogy" safely hidden on the kindle.
And the end.