Last year I became obsessed with John Cheever’s short stories (I know, another WASP-y dude). Two of my favorites are The Enormous Radio and The Swimmer. 697 more words
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In the last ten or twenty years, there has been a rush on the part of many writers to insinuate themselves into the middle class, to live like bank clerks and to eschew any outward sign of disorder; a splendid maneuver, it seems to me, as long as the writer realizes that this is an act of espionage, that this is intended to put him in a position to observe the mores of his natural enemies.