Well, the morning was wiped out by the arrival of the electrician, who came

to install a new main box. We now have 200 amps of gushing current. Then

the afternoon was wiped out by the arrival of a favorite magazine, Literary Review. (Which has no web site. You have to subscribe and wait for it to

come by snail mail: $60 per annum to “Literary Review Subscriptions,

Freepost LON 17963, London SW20 8YY, England.”) In this month’s issue:

(1) A beautiful essay by Paul Johnson (thanks for relaying my question,

Peter–I agree with PJ on both points) about the very interesting difference

between men and women in the matter of accumulating books–viz. men do,

women don’t. Though if I had written it–which, pace J. McN. Whistler, I

will, Oscar, I will–I would have worked in a mention of Helene Hanff’s book

84 Charing Cross Road, which helps make PJ’s point.

(2) A review of Nicholas Farrell’s much-rumored biography of Mussolini. The

reviewer (Michael Burleigh) describes Musso’s regime as: “An odd, creeping,

but not spectacularly bloodthirsty dictatorship, in which about thirty

people were executed over a period of sixteen years…”

(3) A review of a book about a 19th-century Scottish sailor who went native

in the South Pacific islands. The review includes a detailed account of the

proper way to prepare and dress a human for eating, and of certain taboos

associated with the eating (don’t pick your teeth!) The sailor himself got

eaten at last.

(4) A cartoon I shall not attempt to describe, with the caption HEART OF

DORKNESS [sic].

(5) A review of a book by Bill Deedes, elder statesman of conservative

British journalism, 90 years old and still going strong. Deedes (whom I

once worked for) was the original for the character William Boot in Evelyn

Waugh’s novel Scoop. (In which, for some reason, the exchange that always

sticks in my mind is the one that goes: “I want some cleft sticks, please.”

… “We can have some cloven for you.”)

(6) One of those cryptic English crosswords I like. (“19 across: Warren,

say, to beat writer [9]“**)

(7) A review of two books about the human body, living and dead

respectively. The first book apparently makes much of the issue: why are

women’s breasts so big? (Compared with those of other mammals.) This, it

seems, is a great zoological mystery. Well.

(8) A review of a novel by the very funny Spectator writer James

Delingpole. The novel’s title is Thinly Disguised Autobiography … which

now joins the long list of Book Titles I Wish I Had Thought Of First.

(9) The latest episode of the long-running comic strip “Du Côté de chez

Smith,” with a scatological theme I cannot possibly describe here.

(10) The regular poetry competition, whose rules are that entries must

rhyme, scan, and make sense. The subject was “Clowns.” Sample lines, from

the winner: “….Who finds / the clown much fun these days? Children,

perhaps, / though some turn screaming to their mothers’ laps / for

reassurance. Our fast modern minds / despise the satire of a cruder

age….”

So, okay, I frittered away most of my day. I still have the evening in

which to get some actual work done. Ha ha ha ha ha!

** BURROUGHS