Rosalyn‘s response to another writer’s bedside reading report: Books by the bed? Not possible. Only a small table with a small fan on it.
Also no light in there. Just a small lamp behind the bookcase.
However, I am reading Edmund Wilson’s The Twenties: From Notebooks and Diaries of the Period, and, The Thirties. Marvelous clairity, pulls no punches; sexual encounters with wide range of descriptions of smell, taste, bodies, illness (his attitude regarding “class”). These books at my feet, beside the computer chair . . .
Have discovered that there are Forties, Fifties and Sixties books to read.
Saw Wilson only once, at a ceremony honoring him at the MacDowell Colony. He was with his daughter Rosalind. Both rotund and slow. Enjoying the respect and food.