Literature is fragile. It serves no obvious purpose. But it is also as close to immortal as any cultural endeavor has ever ...
I wonder how many of my American readers know about Literary Review, the superb monthly review of books that was born in Edinburgh in 1979 but that popped up on the world’s radar screen in a major way ...
Charlie English begins “The CIA Book Club” by describing a 1970s technical manual: a dull cover, as uninviting as anything. A book that practically begs you to put it back on the shelf and move on.