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I love the smell of used bookstores. The aroma of yellowing print and flaking glue in the binding is so comforting to me. In the old days, I used to visit them far more frequently, in part because I was on a grail quest. The idea fixed in my head was that the answer —…

Writing in Saturday’s Washington Post, Marc Fisher uses his review of the new German-American museum to remark critically on the essential fraudulence of museums of ethnic heritage. Excerpt: But when each ethnic group creates its own museum, visitors are left without the tools to put each ethnicity’s take on history in any useful context. The…

I’ve been thinking today about the things I heard at the Phillip Blond event, and hope to post a response sometime tomorrow. I want to say, though, that while in Washington, I bought a (startlingly expensive paperback) book of Roger Scruton’s personal essays called “Gentle Regrets.” It’s wonderful, really and truly, and a treasure. I…

Today at Georgetown, a perfect stranger came up to me and told me he offered his rosary every day for my sister Ruthie, and prays too that God will give him the grace to offer the same kind of witness she does in the way she’s dealing with her cancer. I heard many fine and…
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