When I was a teenager, my mother plied me with books. Some were entertaining. Then, there was Knut Hamsun. Knut wasn’t a fun sort of author. In “Growth of the Soil” he wrote about the grim, hardscrabble life of the… Read More ›
When I was a teenager, my mother plied me with books. Some were entertaining. Then, there was Knut Hamsun. Knut wasn’t a fun sort of author. In “Growth of the Soil” he wrote about the grim, hardscrabble life of the… Read More ›