Farrar, Straus, 402 pp., $6.75
Isaac Babel was one of those rare writers—our century has not seen very many—about whom one is tempted simply to cry, genius. There is present all through his mature stories evidence of a great blessing, a profusion of gifts as hard to explain as it is impossible to ignore. His life as a craftsman was spent in hard and self-conscious labor, a subtle refining of violent effects; but what strikes one first and last is the luck of his endowment, the mystery of what was his alone.
Review, 2431 words
To read the full text of this piece, please choose one of the following options:
|
If you are already a subscriber to the Review's electronic edition, please sign in: |
To subscribe to the electronic edition, please press the button below. |
To purchase access to this article for $3, please press the button below. |