I read The Alchemist, a novel by Paulo Coelho, a few years ago. A friend had recommended it and as it was an international best seller, it wasn’t hard to convince me to pick up a copy. I enjoyed the story about a sheep herder’s journey from Andalusia to exotic Egypt and the people

Mark Twain said of Rudyard Kipling, whom he admired, “I am not acquainted with my own books, but I know Kipling’s books.” (Hello Goodbye Hello, by Craig Brown, excerpted in The Week, 11/30/12 pg. 41). His remark surprised me the moment I read it. Surely this was excessive praise