I remember when I truly, truly thought that Updike and Roth were the great writers of my life (with a sprinkling of Bellow and the slightest, slightest touch of Borges).  At the time I had perhaps read 100 Years of Solitude, and I think a small amount of Kafka, but otherwise I was almost entirely ignorant of translated literature.

-4 May 2017

This post is part of the I Remember series.