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S. DormanBook Reviews
Hawthorne's 'Scarlet Letter' is pervaded by a fear of hypocrisy and yet some sense in which hypocrisy seems almost unavoidable.
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We are not disoriented, not troubled, confused. We’ve had no blow to the head. We have arrived—not on horseback—to a secure, well-oriented, time.
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Hunting is either a discipline or a confused slaughter. Walking home this morning I thought first, not of hunting, but of my usual route along the road. I was also thinking about writing a paper on Johannes Kepler and emerging […]
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Local fiction has the ability to make the familiar, ordinary, even the boring seem new and surprising. It helps us see our home places with new eyes.