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perhaps america's most underappreciated 20th century writer, brodkey's death in 1996 seems to be doing what the deaths of brilliant people tend to do: deliver the recognition they deserved in life. henry holt and owl books have republished many of his works, and now they have released a collection of his essays, most of which appeared in the new yorker over the past 50 years. he writes a fascinating essay on woody allen, celebrity, and perversity, forcing us to recognize that in some ways mr. allen's relationship with soon-yi makes sense--but he does not go so far as to approve of it. full of the psychological subtlety and accuracy of his fiction, this essay showcases brodkey's unique understanding of how we love, and why.

perhaps the standout piece in this collection is 'frank and harold.' a moving piece about his friendship with new york school poet frank o'hara, brodkey unsentimentally recalls the excitement and experimentation, the self-importance and actual importance, of the literary scene at harvard and in greenwich village during the late 40s and early 50s. it is a remarkable portrait of a scene, an era, and above all, a personality: that of frank o'hara.

brodkey writes about a wide range of topics, and he always has something insightful to say. if his essay "reading: the most dangerous game" doesn't make you rethink your relationship toward books, then you probably shouldn't be reading brodkey anyway.