Reading The New Yorker yesterday evening I learned of the death of James Atlas. The Talk of the Town tribute spoke mainly about his life as a biographer – his exhaustive study of the life and work of Saul Bellow sent me back a few summers ago to the great writer’s novels – but also mentioned his “bawdy wit.” Many years ago Atlas spoke at the Miami Book Fair and mentioned that, as a young writer in New York, he often went with friends to poetry readings. After a number of these, he said, his six favorite words in the English language became, “And now for my last poem.”
