Because a week and a half ago I picked up Palladian Days: Finding a New Life in a Venetian Country House at the Provincetown Library book sale and whooshed right through it, I am suddenly taking a long look at the very large quantity of unread books in my parlor. Some have recently come to me, others have languished here for years. During the pandemic many of them have served as my tripod for Facetime and Zoom calls. What’s in the stack? Let’s take a look!
The Worlds of Lincoln Kirstein , by Martin Duberman. Just picked up for $5 at Brattle Books yesterday. I tried to read one of Kirstein’s books years ago, but damn, he is the most prolix and dense writer. On the other hand, I’ve always loved Duberman’s Stonewall, and Kirstein did put himself in the center of all that was both modern and good in the mid-century. I’m eager to get to this.
White Trash: The 400-Year Untold History of Class in America, by Nancy Isenberg. Technically I am halfway through this, but I started it — hell, I don’t even remember when, it’s been that long — so I’ll probably just have to start over at the beginning.
Contagious: Why Things Catch On, by Jonah Berger. Looked interesting at Strand Books on a trip to New York at least two years ago.
Civility: Manners, Morals, and the Etiquette of Democracy, by Stephen L. Carter. I don’t remember when I got this at Brattle Books, but it’s the kind of thing Etiquetteer ought to be reading.
Venice Incognito: Masks in the Serene Republic, by James H. Johnson. One of the many wonderful books I was given in 2013 before my trip to Venice — so many I am still reading my way through, and loving them.
The Ceremonial City: History, Memory and Myth in Renaissance Venice, by Iain Fenlon. Same.
When I Knew, edited by Robert Trachtenberg. “A collection of smart, hilarious, and often poignant stories about that revelation for all gay men and women: when they first knew.” Come to think of it, I can’t remember when I first knew . . .
ITEMS: Is Fashion Modern?, by Paola Antonelli and Michelle Millar Fisher. I loved this exhibition at MoMA, and had a few ideas for columns from it that, alas, died on the vine.
Nightwork, by Joseph Hansen. The seventh of the Dave Brandstetter mysteries. I was introduced to this series back in college, but apparently never read past the fifth one.
Good-Bye to All That, “Written, Art Directed, and Produced by Harris Lewine, Designed by Alan Peckolick.” I got this — I don’t know what it is, an anecdotal history of cigarettes? — at Brattle Books because I loved the design of it and the way it felt in my hands. But it does feel rather confusing, trying to read it.
Less, by Andrew Sean Greer. H. gave me this for Christmas, 2019 — he always manages to find me perfect books, but sometimes they have to sit with me awhile before I can absorb them in the right spirit. I got up to the point where the protagonist got on the wrong airport shuttle in Italy and had to put it down. But I know I’ll come back to it. (I did the same thing with Atlas Shrugged, which I read for Daddy in college because he admired Ayn Rand so much.)
The Collected Stories of Jean Stafford. Another H. Christmas gift, from 2020. He chose her novel Boston Adventure for me, which was SO GOOD, so I know this will be wonderful.
White People Do Not Know How to Behave at Entertainments Designed for Ladies & Gentlemen of Colour: William Brown’s African and American Theatre, by Marvin McAllister. A forgotten episode in the American theatre of the 1820s, discovered at Brattle Books.
The Age of Living Machines: How Biology Will Build the Next Technology Revolution, by Susan Hockfield. Sent me by the Koch Institute after I introduced Susan at an online program about this book in 2020. I sometimes surprise myself with interest in science-oriented things (e.g. the history of aniline dyes, ginseng cultivation in West Virginia, the use of poison at the court of Louis XIV), so this is likely to be good.
The Lucius Beebe Reader, from my West Coast friend Will, who was introduced to me by our mutual friend Carl. Beebe was a true bon viveur, not to mention his connection with Brennan’s in New Orleans and its Breakfast at Brennan’s cookbook.
Mrs. Jack, by Louise Hall Tharp. Craig just gave me this paperback edition (with an Avenue Victor Hugo pricetag on it) of this biography of Isabella Stewart Gardner, which I’ve never happened to read. The cover art makes her look impossibly beautiful, whereas we all know she was one homely girl . . . but with exquisite taste.
Jock’s Island, by Elizabeth Coatsworth. I snatched up this $1.00 paperback at a junk shop in Gloucester less to read this children’s book than to share it with my friend Liz. Elizabeth Coatsworth just happens to be her grandmother . . .
I Heard the Owl Call my Name, by Margaret Craven. “The gentle bestseller that is sweeping the world,” a novel about a younger priest near the end of his life being sent to a new calling in Alaska. Found this at Mother’s and the first couple chapters compelled me sufficiently to take it when we were cleaning out the house.
Center Center: A Funny, Sexy, Sad Almost-Memoir of a Boy in Ballet, by James Whiteside. Just got this through Papercuts JP, my neighborhood independent bookstore. James was in the apprentice company when I worked at the Ballet, and has since become a superstar in more realms than dance. I am eager to read his story of how he did it!
Stupid Things I Won’t Do When I Get Old, by Steven Petrow. Dan Post Senning interviewed the author on the Awesome Etiquette podcast, which is how I heard about this book. Having seen so many examples in my reunion days of the kind of old man I don’t want to be, I really want to leap into this soon.
A Field Guide to Whiskey, by Hans Offringa. It came in a package from Bespoke Post.
Witches and Warlocks of Massachusetts: Legends, Victims, and Sinister Spellcasters, by Peter Muise. My dear friend Peter’s new book is wonderful — I’m actually halfway through it — and I’m seeing my home state (Louisiana is my native state) in a new, deeper way. It’s also a lot of fun. Ordered through Papercuts JP, which I hope is stocking it now.
Red Orchestra: The Story of the Berlin Underground and the Circle of Friends Who Resisted Hitler, by Anne Nelson. Found at Provincetown Library book sale this month. Discovering Missie Vassiltchikov’s Berlin Diaries over 25 years ago was a revelation, and this book will paint a broader picture of her circle.
The Age of Decadence A History of Britain: 1880-1914, by Simon Heffer. Where did I just find this?! It’s a recent purchase. Tim’s Used Books? Simon Heffer, an author with whom I’m unfamiliar, has been on my mind ‘cause apparently he’s just edited the diaries of Chips Channon (who I don’t really know, but know enough that I want to know more). This book is so thick, as Laurie Anderson tells us, “it could stun an ox.”
Whew, mercy, two dozen books! That looks like it, at least in the parlor . . . of course I can’t start on any of them until I finish Joanne B. Freeman’s Field of Blood: Violence in Congress and the Road to Civil War. At last I’m 50 pages from the end (spoiler alert: they go to war) after a year or so. It is so valuable to read, but it’s not at all a comfortable read.