Here’s something a bit different during this brief interregnum between the Yankees’ demise and the Rangers’ almost-certain dismantling of the Giants.
If you love great literature and great writers, and love to find out just how great writers do what they do every day, you’re in luck: The Paris Review has just put its entire archives online, for free, nothing but a link-click required.
Here you’ll find long, thoughtful, probing, usually candid, occasionally combative interviews with the great writers of the past 50 years, including, to name only a few, Hemingway, Faulkner, T. S. Eliot, William Styron, Saul Bellow, Robert Frost, Aldous Huxley, Norman Mailer, John Updike, James Dickey, Joseph Heller, Gore Vidal, Doris Lessing, Philip Roth, Joan Didion, Mary Karr, and Jonathan Franzen.
All these and dozens more wait at http://www.theparisreview.org/interviews.
And what does this cavalcade of genius have to do with baseball, our subject of late? Remember the poignant words of Bart Giamatti, former Yale president, about the game:
It breaks your heart. It is designed to break your heart. The game begins in the spring, when everything else begins again, and it blossoms in the summer, filling the afternoons and evenings, and then as soon as the chill rains come, it stops and leaves you to face the fall alone. You count on it, rely on it to buffer the passage of time, to keep the memory of sunshine and high skies alive, and then just when the days are all twilight, when you need it most, it stops.
Alas, it’s true. In perhaps one week, certainly two, baseball will be gone for another year. And on those cold, rainy Sundays, I plan to read my way through the Paris Review interviews.