Point Omega

Don DeLillo's prose has an aridity and a metallic tang that is enhanced, I believe, by the fact that his books are set in Electra. Point Omega reminded me at times of the Antonioni film Zabriskie Point, both for its setting and its detached style. If you are looking for a traditional narrative, look elsewhere. If you are looking for ice-cold sentences stacked one on top of the other, it's here.

Outside Looking In

Garry Wills, who subtitled this episodic memoir "Adventures of an Observer," has the qualities most needed in an effective observer: modesty, curiosity, and intellect. While not quite Zelig, Wills has been witness to a number of important scenes, including the one at a Memphis funeral parlor where Martin Luther King's body was prepared for public display. His ideological journey was marked by fearless honesty. There must be other people like Wills writing today; they are just so hard to find amid all the noise.

The Years With Ross

James Thurber's affectionate account of his years working for New Yorker founder Harold Ross is filled with anecdotes that will surprise anyone who thought the magazine was the product of an intellectual. Ross was an ambitious, hard-working, manic editor, but he couldn't be bothered to read anything but pieces for his magazine. He once poked his head into a assistant's office and asked: "Is Moby Dick the man or the whale?" He refused to read A Farewell to Arms because "I understand the hero keeps getting in bed with women, and the war wasn't fought that way." His favorite marginal note on manuscripts was "Who that?" He said there were only two names guaranteed to be recognized by every reader: Harry Houdini and Sherlock Holmes. A person meeting Ross for the first time at a dinner said that in the first half-hour he couldn't imagine anyone less suited to running the New Yorker. By the end of the evening he couldn't imagine it being run by anyone else.

Buying a Book for No Good Reason

I recently won an auction online for The Bonney Family by Ruth Suckow. I didn't know the book, had barely heard of the author, and really had no good reason for making a bid. When it arrived today I was reminded that although there may be no good reasons for buying a particular book, there are always reasons. Such as:

• The book is a signed, limited edition of the first edition. My copy is No. 39 of 95. Ninety-five is a small limitation, as these things go. If Ruth Suckow ever makes a comeback, my $9.95 will have been well spent.
• $9.95 is about a fifth to a tenth of the going price. I realize a book is worth only what someone is willing to pay, but even as a shelf-filler it will have been worth it.
• The book was published by Alfred A. Knopf in 1928. Knopf insisted that his books be well-made and attractive. This one is beautiful, in fine condition, and printed on Borzoi Rag Paper. It makes the books publishers put out today look like junk.
• Who knows? I might read it and find out that I love Ruth Suckow.

If It Die ...

Andre Gide's autobiography is a model of frankness and modesty. But he acknowledges that, as truthful as he tries to be, it is likely that more honesty is to be found in his novels.

The Feast of the Goat

I am re-reading Mario Vargas Llosa's 2001 novel about the Dominican dictator Trujillo and am impressed again by his ability to build interest, and suspense, with a meticulous yet seemingly effortless hand. Vargas Llosa's thing has always been creating a "fictional reality," in essence a spell cast over the reader to make him believe not only that everything he is reading is true but that what is happening could not happen in any other way. A reader is immersed in a Vargas Llosa novel: characters lift off the page, sights and smells are real, and the momentum becomes irresistible. It is a credit to this novel that, knowing what is ahead, I still am eager to experience it all over again.