The young woman seated opposite me at the restaurant was an orphan. A few months earlier, her mother had died of cancer. Her father had departed this earth years earlier after a fall from a ladder. Both parents I’d known since college, a bookish pair who remained in the same four-st

J. C.  Halliman cocks a doubtful eyebrow at novelist Philip Roth’s announcement he has retired from writing. (“The Monk Retires,” The Baffler, Vol. 27, pgs. 184-189.) If so, the essayist wonders, why do we keep seeing him on television or as a speaker at literary events. From t

Winning the Pulitzer Prize won’t ensure a writer respect from a certain cadre of critics, those who owe their high perches to their employment rather than to any literary achievement.   For good or ill, these arbitrators of taste imagine they determine what passes for fine literat