Library books:
The dark side of the library.

I forgot that in the first batch of books I borrowed from the library was Foreskin's Lament by Shalom Auslander. First, a moment to contemplate one of the greatest names ever, especially for someone as alienated as Auslander. Hello Foreigner, it could be translated as, from Hebrew for Shalom and German for Auslander. Also, Goodbye Foreigner. (Also, Peace Foreigner, but that's not as good). I'm pretty sure it's not a pseudonym. If it were it would be kind of vomitous, but I think it's just serendipity.

I'd read some pieces by him in the NYer, and particularly remember the piece about him walking from somewhere in New Jersey, I think, to a Rangers game at Madison Square Garden in a slippery attempt to stay kosher. It was very funny. But the book. For one, it's a bit looser than the NYer piece(s), but not in a good way -- it's just not as tight. But more problematically, from a library user's perspective, is that it's just not the kind of book I want to read straight through. He writes just like what he looks like, and he looks like this:


That is, his writing is just a little too belligerent and intense for me to take at long stretches, even though it's very good. But I had to return the book to the library (it was unrenewable because someone else wanted it). So I sort of quickly picked my way through, reading short, disjointed bits. Just because of the due date I liked a book less than I otherwise would have. Caveat borrower, is all I'm saying.