Photograph by Leonard Mccombe

Sheed’s essays — misanthropic yet Nabokovian and light on their feet — embraced what he called “the whole crazy chorus of American letters and subletters.” He wanted to live in a mental world that was filled with “Gershwin playing all night in penthouses, while George Kaufman fired one-liners into the guests and Harpo scrambled eggs in their hats.”

Comment

1. ↩ Andrew / 24 December 2011

   I had a feeling this would show up here.