What I remember about Carolyn with an onslaught of intellectual agita is not solely the artifact of a major death anniversary, but also the surprising effects of an earlier encounter with an interesting young woman.
Had I told Carolyn the mismemory story (see part 1) many years later, at one of our weekly dinners, confessed my confusion and embarrassment but also made light […]
It was October 1992. Carolyn had retired from Columbia after the spring semester—early, as retirements go these days, at sixty-six. The head of the Women’s […]
Welcome. Some musings on my current preoccupations with the worlds of illness and the worlds of books, the vicissitudes of living with cancer and the need now, in my eighties, to imagine what new writing might be.