However accurate Andrew Marvell's association with the metaphysical poets, it is unfortunate that the singular writer – so singularly spiteful, winning, allusive, sardonic – should share a limited codified space with anyone else, even if his spacemates include such luminaries as John Donne, Georg
After having published two novels by 1958, John Barth sat in front of a fireplace for two years, without moving or budging or repositioning himself for comfort; when asked what he was doing, the young man would respond, "Thinking." Come the end of this lengthy meditative period, a novel named "The
Freelance journalist, writer, reviewer, photographer. I've taken a love of words — of expressing parts of myself through such fundamental, organic means, of manipulating the abstract to create something tangible — and a passion for music — in all its stages, forms, expressions, contexts — and