Arthur and George, by Julian Barnes. Knopf, 2006.  ISBN 0-307-26310-X I was at Bookshop Santa Cruz – funny how a visit to towns like Santa Cruz end up at that bookstore – and this book on the New Fiction table just jumped at me and said, “buy me.”  It had, of course, the appeal of being hard bound, which I really like, and of having that round sticker on it that said “Autographed Copy.”  Yes, I remembered, this Julian Barnes was around, and I never paid attention.  I heard him on the radio, on KALW, but sometimes I hear the radio and don’t listen – or so I thought.  In a definite leap of faith, I bought the book – my friends and I had just discussed how I was frugal when I didn’t need to be. Arthur and George takes the reader through short episodes in the distinct lives of Arthur and George, entitled, “Arthur” and “George” until they are merged to “Arthur and George” in an episode that does not talk about either of them.  The expectation builds up: …

Book Reviews? I noticed this morning that I read the Sunday SF Chronicle’s Book Review section more than any other.  My favorites – Comics, of course, Travel, Datebook – had all been made available by a generous patron of Printer’s Inc Café, and I snatched them as soon as the presumed generous patron had abandoned them on the table.  I then noticed that many reviews are written by people who are probably not employed at the paper, and who knows if they are even paid for it.  And then, why wouldn’t I try to publish a review of my recently read books on my blog?  That is a very contemporary thought. And so I started imagining what I would say about the most recent one, which will be the subject of the next article.  I figured I should start with a confession as a preamble. I don’t know why I have grown up liking to be among books, because I had hardly received any stimulation at home or in school.  I just liked going through the stacks, reading the titles, making …