I nearly always struggle reviewing classics, or if not yet “classic,” the darlings of mid-century American literature. They’re beloved and enduring for a reason, and yet, a lot of them, being “of their time,” may not hold up well or for whatever reason fail to command the attention of the modern reader. A lot of people will take that as an excuse to belittle the modern reader. I will not. I will also struggle with reading someone like Vonnegut, whose work implies layers upon layers of meaning and about whom people tend to philosophize. Once upon a time, I was […]