Wicker King (jtoomey) wrote,
Wicker King
jtoomey

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Lake Wobegon Summer 1956

I just finished reading Garrison Keillor's Lake Wobegon Summer 1956, and I'm reminded of why I love his work so.

When you read his books, you feel like he sits you down at his backyard picnic table, offers you a drink, and then proceeds to tear out his very heart and place it right there, in clear view. All of his beauty and ugliness, intelligence and thick-headedness -- none of it is hidden.

There aren't many people who can do that. I know I can't... I have plenty of tales from my relatively short history which I'm quite disinclined to spread around. I find them embarrassing, or I worry what others would think, or I fear that the principals would call me out as a liar, despite my best efforts toward veracity. Perhaps such confidence comes with age.

I'm not betting on a magical increase in my own forthrightness as I age, though. I think Mr. Keillor's just an incredible talent, and I'm glad I get the chance to read his work.
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