By Geoffrey Wolff
With those interwoven autobiographical essays, Geoffrey Wolff, writer of the acclaimed The Duke of Deception, recounts the ethical (and immoral) schooling of a author, pal, husband, and father, as he bargains his lively, dependent, and deeply felt observations on a rare lifestyles: from wildly dysfunctional formative years Christmases to a concupiscent occupation instructing literature in Istanbul; from a victory over the chaos of drink to a life-affirming quit to the majesty of the Matterhorn; and from a foundering friendship to the transcending love of family.
He stocks with us, then, the knowledge of an alert guy studying in the course of the unsettling collisions of time, position, and native customized, and during the strength of hassle and danger, to convey his many disparate selves jointly -- with excellent high-stakes candor and fantastic literary agility.
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Additional info for A Day at the Beach: Recollections
I was a shrimp but I wasn’t afraid of anything. I also had to consciously think about what I needed to do to make my own life better, even when I was young. One of the things that I was most self-conscious about was my clothes. My clothes were clean and neat but, much like my haircut, they were out of style with what the other kids wore. I begged my mother to let me get a paper route for the Toronto Star; a boy I knew wanted to give his up because it was too much work. My mother agreed on the condition that I would live up to my responsibilities.
This was in the early days of my mother’s ability to cook. When I was a young boy, my mother was not the greatest cook. My Bachan Takahashi hated to cook and never really taught my mother how. By the time I was a teenager, however, my mother had become a very good cook. But back then, my mother would cook the liver until it was the consistency of leather. ” Adding the boiled spinach to the liver was adding torture to torture for us. This was when I was 11 and Dan was seven. But like a dutiful son I would eat the meal.
We lived with the Takahashi extended family. Later my mother would tell me that I was very spoiled with affection. After all, I had nothing but uncles and aunts and my grandmother surrounding me. The Takahashi Side s 29 s I discovered years later that my bachan used to write haiku that she sent back to Japan, where they were published. When I told my mother that Bachan must be the reason I had always been interested in writing poetry, she told me that my grandfather Tsubouchi also wrote haiku and that both sides of the family wrote poetry.