It appears likely that I will link the London Bombings with the passing of Shelby Foote. Bedmates and the loose nature of my brain have shoved this along. I was reading Follow Me Down as I learned of this tragedy, one which was accelerated by potentially affecting my extended family. I finished the novel on Saturday and what an appropriate novel it was. Perhaps emulating As I Lay Dying, it does unveil that wilting poetry that Foote brought to nations greatest catastrophe.

 

I decided to read Yellow Dog, hoping to strike on the sentimental iron of London. What a mistake! Amis appears preoccupied with contortions, navel gazing and his own demons. �

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