When I was a kid, I used to hang out in my parents’ den and I was fascinated with my mom’s extensive collection of paperback books that were stacked side by side along the back length of my dad’s beautiful dark wood bar. Without a photographic memory I can’t bring to mind all the titles, but one particular novel stood out – Call It Sleep by Henry Roth. It’s a story about a Jewish immigrant child growing up in the tenements of New York City. I never read it, but the intriguing title and subdued … [Read more...]
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