One At A Time: Graham's List Of Favourite Prostitutes

      The New Yorker offers yet another review-that-isn't-really-a-review of Norman Sherry's long-awaited volume three of the life of Graham Greene. As an article it's mildly interesting (and, as with so many reconsiderations of Greene, interested almost exclusively in the books produced before 1960), but once again it seems Sherry's not being taken much to task; it seems every reviewer of late esteems him- or herself a belated obituarist.   Such reviews I invariably find frustrating because the subject text becomes little more than a platform to discuss other matters, and so the subject text becomes little more than a pretext.   This whole process seems spurious, but it's also quite typical of far too much literary criticism these days.    *sigh*

      The picture at left has no reason for being included here, except that I stumbled upon it and like it-- despite that ridiculously clichéd cross in the offing.   I like it much more than, say, this one of Alec Guinness.   It's rather neat being able to look up now-historical figures to see them rendered in more specifically "popular" representations.   Check for yourself: I'm sure Hitler's "Man of the Year" cover is in there somewhere, much to Time's everlasting chagrin.

      But the new information about Greene suggests that I really should start developing my own list of favourite hookers, call-girls, ladies-of-the-evening, concubines, and consorts.   I feel so inadequate nto having one.   *pout, sniff*   I'm reminded of Colin Mochrie performing a scene in the style of Fellini: "Aya wanta a fat prostitute!"   Devilishly funny.   Graham would have liked it, methinks.