Eduardo Santiago
More a collection of amuse-bouches, some WTFs, and a few genuine delights, and I would expect nothing less from someone who acknowledges Montaigne within the first ten pages and concludes with a tip of the hat to Galeano. These are, after all, essais, and even the masters didn't putt 1000. It is, on the whole, an uplifting way to end this year. (Aside: Gay wrote the essays between August 1, 2016, and August 1, 2017. The careful reader may note some uncomfortable parallels between that timeline and today.)
This is a book to read slowly, and I did. Gay is obviously a poet first and foremost and second and third too. Even at a gentle pace, a good number of essays needed a reread: some because of Gay's circumloquaciousness, some because his cultural references are just too obscure for me. I found myself enjoying even the rereadings. And the delights, those were mostly simple reminders to observe and be present as we go about our days.
And with that, farewell 2024!
More a collection of amuse-bouches, some WTFs, and a few genuine delights, and I would expect nothing less from someone who acknowledges Montaigne within the first ten pages and concludes with a tip of the hat to Galeano. These are, after all, essais, and even the masters didn't putt 1000. It is, on the whole, an uplifting way to end this year. (Aside: Gay wrote the essays between August 1, 2016, and August 1, 2017. The careful reader may note some uncomfortable parallels between that timeline and today.)
This is a book to read slowly, and I did. Gay is obviously a poet first and foremost and second and third too. Even at a gentle pace, a good number of essays needed a reread: some because of Gay's circumloquaciousness, some because his cultural references are just too obscure for me. I found myself enjoying even the rereadings. And the delights, those were mostly simple reminders to observe and be present as we go about our days.
And with that, farewell 2024!