Bernard Malamud’s 1952 fable has always seemed the most American of Jewish novels and the most Jewish story in American folklore.
When the Yom Kippur War started, Leonard Cohen left the Greek island of Hydra and headed for Tel Aviv. He was coming in solidarity but he was also looking for a way to sing again.
In A Serious Man, the Coen Brothers found a way to address the realest of subjects—their own childhood, their own sense of Judaism—without sacrificing their style; they “grew up” without losing their humor.
The 1951 basketball game that pitted CCNY, which fielded blacks and Jews, against the all-white University of Kentucky seemed less a meeting of schools than a clash of civilizations: old versus new, South versus North, prejudice versus tolerance.
What happens when our writers and thinkers express themselves through Facebook, Snapchat, and Twitter instead of on the page?
James Salter has been justly celebrated as a composer of gorgeous prose, and his new late-life novel All That Is confirms his reputation as a writer's writer. How much of his artistic vision is predicated on being James Salter rather than James Horowitz?