Edmund White was one of the greatest readers ever. I’ve read a few of his books, and for the past two months I’ve been (slowly) working through The Loves of My Life—a rather graphic gay memoir. His Boy trilogy was wonderful and among my first reads in this category.
Of course, being American, he’s largely ignored by our liberals—most of whom wouldn’t know him, let alone read him, which is always a shame. But then again, there are super serious readers in my circle who’ve never even heard of Mavis Gallant, so White’s case isn’t all that surprising.
