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I used to think the drama was all on this side of the three doors, but as the tale unfolds I begin to appreciate how startled the princess or the tiger might be, when the door swings open, to confront the condemned man standing in the hallway of the apartment building at lunchtime. Read the rest of this entry »
We can’t just weep on paper and call it Book of Tears. We can’t just stab the book and call it Rage, but certain stories are more physical fact than art. Read the rest of this entry »