I had no idea about this memoir by Michael Gates Gill, Brendan Gill’s son and a celebrator of Starbucks, but I’m very keen to read it. Looks like it’s Gotham Books, September. I must get hold of one! I like how the subtitle can be read as a subtle nod to one of the best books I read last year.
And on Mediabistro, Neal Ungerleider posts an appreciation of a post by Sewell Chan on the City Room blog, all about Joseph Mitchell and Joe Gould. My hat’s off (and I just inherited two large hatboxes full of hats) to both Joes. Read Chan’s tribute. Gould, too, had had a life of privilege, mostly. I respectfully disagree with Ungerleider and with Stephen Holden that Joe Gould’s Secret, the movie, is second-rate. One can’t have expectations like that for adaptations; it’s a beautiful movie, a West Village poem, unto itself.