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I, GOLDSTEIN

MY SCREWED LIFE

The autobiography, much of which may be factual, of a dirty old man, illustrated with x-rated photos. You may want to wash...

The unsavory, wild adventures of the man who made his fortune delivering pornography to the American mass market, the former King of Smut, now destitute, dependent on lithium, Social Security and the kindness of strangers.

Back in the day, before the Internet made his special product available to everybody at the click of a mouse, Goldstein was a seminal figure in the industry. No dirty place was too far for his pulp magazine, Screw, to travel. Some called it liberal, countercultural, a trumpet for freedom, while others simply called it filth. Clearly, both were right. Screw embodied a special art form presenting schoolyard humor that featured naughty words, muddy photographs and explicit artwork, all as thoroughly offensive as intended. The periodical was first sold, Goldstein says, by blind newsstand operators. The publisher made millions. He wallowed in the unrelenting potty talk—he still does—and reveled in the nonstop sexual play, which he remembers fondly in his account of a unique life. Goldstein’s story is a chronicle of his appetites for expensive watches, sweet revenge, cigars, pastrami and, foremost, sex organs. It is populated by a lot of porn stars, scum-peddlers, lubricious whores, faithless wives and one disloyal son. (His own father was a “putz.”) Included are pop-culture figures like Walter Winchell, Larry Flynt and Linda Lovelace, friendly restaurateurs, slick lawyers, actor-murderers and made guys. Our hero got a rise out of the citizenry; he was jailed and, finally, forgotten and abandoned by old comrades in the sex business. Screw shut down in 2003 after 35 years and 1,800 issues. Now, Goldstein is a tired scalawag, a corpulent old lion, toothlessly gnawing old bones. Without his wealth or health, Goldstein retains his talent for lewdness.

The autobiography, much of which may be factual, of a dirty old man, illustrated with x-rated photos. You may want to wash your hands after handling this one.

Pub Date: Oct. 16, 2006

ISBN: 1-56025-868-3

Page Count: 296

Publisher: N/A

Review Posted Online: May 19, 2010

Kirkus Reviews Issue: Aug. 15, 2006

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NIGHT

The author's youthfulness helps to assure the inevitable comparison with the Anne Frank diary although over and above the...

Elie Wiesel spent his early years in a small Transylvanian town as one of four children. 

He was the only one of the family to survive what Francois Maurois, in his introduction, calls the "human holocaust" of the persecution of the Jews, which began with the restrictions, the singularization of the yellow star, the enclosure within the ghetto, and went on to the mass deportations to the ovens of Auschwitz and Buchenwald. There are unforgettable and horrifying scenes here in this spare and sombre memoir of this experience of the hanging of a child, of his first farewell with his father who leaves him an inheritance of a knife and a spoon, and of his last goodbye at Buchenwald his father's corpse is already cold let alone the long months of survival under unconscionable conditions. 

The author's youthfulness helps to assure the inevitable comparison with the Anne Frank diary although over and above the sphere of suffering shared, and in this case extended to the death march itself, there is no spiritual or emotional legacy here to offset any reader reluctance.

Pub Date: Jan. 16, 2006

ISBN: 0374500010

Page Count: 120

Publisher: Hill & Wang

Review Posted Online: Oct. 7, 2011

Kirkus Reviews Issue: Jan. 15, 2006

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WHEN BREATH BECOMES AIR

A moving meditation on mortality by a gifted writer whose dual perspectives of physician and patient provide a singular...

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A neurosurgeon with a passion for literature tragically finds his perfect subject after his diagnosis of terminal lung cancer.

Writing isn’t brain surgery, but it’s rare when someone adept at the latter is also so accomplished at the former. Searching for meaning and purpose in his life, Kalanithi pursued a doctorate in literature and had felt certain that he wouldn’t enter the field of medicine, in which his father and other members of his family excelled. “But I couldn’t let go of the question,” he writes, after realizing that his goals “didn’t quite fit in an English department.” “Where did biology, morality, literature and philosophy intersect?” So he decided to set aside his doctoral dissertation and belatedly prepare for medical school, which “would allow me a chance to find answers that are not in books, to find a different sort of sublime, to forge relationships with the suffering, and to keep following the question of what makes human life meaningful, even in the face of death and decay.” The author’s empathy undoubtedly made him an exceptional doctor, and the precision of his prose—as well as the moral purpose underscoring it—suggests that he could have written a good book on any subject he chose. Part of what makes this book so essential is the fact that it was written under a death sentence following the diagnosis that upended his life, just as he was preparing to end his residency and attract offers at the top of his profession. Kalanithi learned he might have 10 years to live or perhaps five. Should he return to neurosurgery (he could and did), or should he write (he also did)? Should he and his wife have a baby? They did, eight months before he died, which was less than two years after the original diagnosis. “The fact of death is unsettling,” he understates. “Yet there is no other way to live.”

A moving meditation on mortality by a gifted writer whose dual perspectives of physician and patient provide a singular clarity.

Pub Date: Jan. 19, 2016

ISBN: 978-0-8129-8840-6

Page Count: 248

Publisher: Random House

Review Posted Online: Sept. 29, 2015

Kirkus Reviews Issue: Oct. 15, 2015

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