He speaks from the grave, he writes, so that he can speak freely — “as frank and free and unembarrassed as a love letter” — but there’s precious little frankness and freedom here and plenty of proof that Mark Twain, in the hands of academics, can be just as tedious as anybody else when he is under the burden of his own reputation.
Well, rats. Just when I’m trying to work up some high hopes for a great reading journey, here comes Garrison Keillor as a special reviewer for the Times to quash my enthusiasm. Nevertheless, the rest of his review leads me to believe he found the book interesting, if exasperating, work.
Reposted from Two Fathoms