by Eliot Weinberger
As I sat by my window finishing the last essays in An Elemental Thing tonight, a severe storm was raging outside. Dark gray clouds descending, heavy rain pouring down, wild winds driving the water against my windows. During the worst of the storm, it felt like glass and bricks were only a very thin ...
What do you do when you finish a book of extraordinary writing—writing that’s unlike anything you’ve read before? Writing that’s caught you up and not turned you loose. Writing that informs, but is beautiful. Writing that leaves you breathless, but not wanting for air, rather wanting for more writin...
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