There's a difference between ruminating and rambling, and Roger Rosenblatt crosses the line in The Boy Detective, his dilatory, meandering new memoir about his New York boyhood. I was a big fan of Kayak Morning, Rosenblatt's meditation on the tenaciousness of grief published in early 2012, four years after the sudden death of his 38-year-old daughter, a pediatrician and mother of three small children. But his latest, while less melancholic, more playful, and occasionally endearingly quirky, ambles at a pace that makes rush hour traffic down Second Avenue seem speedy.
Originally published on Tue November 5, 2013 11:34 am
Deep in the Madagascan rain forest, a lemur and his daughter chatter softly as they climb through towering spires of bamboo.
Tiny, furry creatures, with snub noses and tufts of white hair sprouting from their ears, they exchange purr-like noises to keep tabs on each other's whereabouts. They definitely don't want to get separated.