by Chandra Ganguly
The author spares nothing his gaze falls on, least of all himself. The pathos in the way he recalls his life is touching but in no way does it invoke pity. Humour as a device carries these essays into the sunset. He begins the collection describing the standing ovations his lectures now receive. Having just witnessed one such standing ovation at Bennington where he gave a lecture to a packed hall, it made me smile to read the raison d’etre of these standing ovations as, “The audience had just seen me stagger, waver with a cane, and labor to sit down, wheezing. They imagined my grandfather horrified, watching a cadaver gifted with speech. They stood and applauded because they knew they would never see me again.” (p.50) America’s erstwhile poet laureate is self-deprecating, his charm is in his humility, and his intelligence shines through in his dry humour. Even his wife, whose dying he still mourns deeply, is described as, “The more successful her poetry became, the more she permitted herself to be pretty.” (p.54)
