I’m trying a new litmus test for deciding whether to take up and read, as God suggested to Saint Augustine, and given that God does not speak to me with any real precision beyond the occasional eructation: I examine the first and last sentence of a volume, be it fiction or nonfiction. If I find a piquant snappiness, an intrigue, a rhythm I could learn to live with, then I give the book a longer look. Continue Reading →