A recent starred review in Publishers’ Weekly of a work of fiction quoted two lines from the book: The first, a racist comment from a peripheral character and the second, another character’s statement about the prevalence of racial hatred. And I wondered: Do writers win points these days simply by citing the currently approved obsessions? Wouldn’t readers be more impressed by the sharing of some telling observation from the author, a brilliant apercu perhaps, or an unusual or interesting use of language?
Gifts this year included essays, travel books, a biography and, weighing in at 15 pounds, a two-volume collection of New Yorker cartoons. (Rarely has anything so light been so heavy.) This last present was courtesy of our neighbors Charles and Claudine, who also distinguished themselves by presenting me with three bandannas imprinted with the covers of my books.
One of the pleasures of posting a cartoon on social media is reading the list of people who like it and then imagining a party where they all meet.
One of my best freelancers when I was at the Sun-Sentinel was a woman named Pamela Petro, who has now published three books, with a fourth one coming out next year. Recently, she’s expanded her repertoire to include comics, one of which is currently on the website of The American Scholar. It’s occurred to me that, were I still at the paper, I could put out an issue of the Travel section containing nothing but Pam’s comics and my cartoons. I would make history before getting fired.
I saw a long-silent friend’s name in my inbox and eagerly clicking on it found, instead of news, an invitation to connect on Alignable.
I received some sad news over Christmas, telling of the death of St. Petersburg cartoonist Leonid Melnik.
I met Leonid for the first time in 2001, with his two friends Victor Bogorad and Vyacheslav Shilov (the triumvirate that formed the group Nuance). I had been communicating with Slava by e-mail and when I arrived in town the three of them took me to Victor's studio for dinner, vodka, cartoon viewing and laughter. My story about the evening appears in my book A Way to See the World.
Leonid seemed the quietest of the three, in part because he spoke no English. Victor didn't either, but he had more of a larger-than-life personality.
I returned to St. Petersburg in 2006, when we recreated the evening in Victor's studio, and again in 2007, when we met in a steakhouse Slava had helped decorate. Leonid had published a book; it was in Russian, but it contained a number of cartoons that - like those of his friends - needed no captions. One showed a little girl holding a teddy bear and looking into the cage of a bear holding a doll.
In the taxi back to my hotel, Leonid pulled out a copy of his book and wrote on the title page: "For Tom with love from author Leon Melnik." Then, after presenting it to me, he took out a piece of paper and drew me a cartoon.