Michael Chabon writes about comic books, Philip Pullman, the ghost stories of M. E. James, and Cormac McCarthy’s The Road. Along the way, Chabon talks about how he became a writer. In some of these essays, Chabon uses his magic to cause you to run to the computer and order the book he’s talking about. Here’s an example:

“Start anywhere; start with Odin. First he murders the gigantic, hideous monster who whelped his father, and slaughters him to make the universe. Then he plucks out his own right eyeball and trades it to an ice giant for a sip—a sip!—of water from the well of secret knowledge. Next he hangs himself, from a tree, for nine days and night nights, and in a trance of divine asphyxia devises the runes. Then he opens a vein in his arm and lets his blood commingle with that of Loki, the worst (and most appealing) creature who ever lived, thus setting in motion the chain of events that will lead to the extinction of himself, everyone he loves, and all nine worlds (beautifully mapped on the book’s endpapers), which he himself once shaped from the skull, lungs, heart, bones, teeth, and blood of his grandfather.” (p. 62)

The book under discussion is D’Aulaires’ Book of Norse Myths. Don’t you want to read it now?

“To choose the best among the many good is one of the most hazardous attempts of criticism.” Samuel Johnson’s words apply to this fat collection of his work: poems, plays, essays, and of course, his DICTIONARY. Johnson’s life was a rocky one with heartbreak and poverty and illness dogging all his attempts to succeed as a writer. That Johnson became the legendary writer of his era and can be read with profit today is a testament to his grit and determination.