Garrison Keillor writes today in “A Writer’s Almanac” about Saul Bellow:
It’s the birthday of Saul Bellow, (books by this author) born Solomon Bellows in Lachine, Quebec, in 1915, two years after his parents emigrated from Russia. He was born in Canada, but when he was young he was smuggled across the border into Chicago, and so he grew up as an illegal immigrant. His dad was an onion importer and a bootlegger. His mom was religious, and she hoped he would be a rabbi or maybe a concert pianist. But when he was eight years old, he read Uncle Tom’s Cabin and he decided he would become a writer.
He wrote two novels that didn’t sell very well. But then he won a Guggenheim Fellowship and moved to Paris to write. And while he was there, he realized how much he loved Chicago.
So he started a new novel whose opening lines are: “I am an American, Chicago born — Chicago, that somber city — and go at things as I have taught myself, free-style, and will make the record in my own way.” That was The Adventures of Augie March (1953),which became his first real success and won the National Book Award. He continued writing plays, nonfiction, and more novels, including Henderson the Rain King (1959), Herzog (1964), and Humboldt’s Gift (1975).
He said, “In expressing love we belong among the undeveloped countries.” And, “You never have to change anything you got up in the middle of the night to write.” And, “I discovered that rejections are not altogether a bad thing. They teach a writer to rely on his own judgment and to say in his heart of hearts, ‘To hell with you.'”

I love Saul Bellow.
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Reminds me, I need to put more Saul Bellow on my future reading list. I think of him, Dreiser, and Studs Terkel when I think of Chicago.
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Also Nelson Algren
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John Webster,
I never post comments that insult me or this blog.
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I really want to see that comment. I’m straining the leash and the collar is cutting into my neck. 😈
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The comment I deleted, as well as a follow-up, claimed that this blog is “far-left.” The writer was surprised that I had kind words for Saul Bellow, who was admired by conservatives. This is not a “far-left” blog; that is an insult. I admire authors without regard to their politics, so long as their politics do not promote injustice, racism, or stupidity. If someone wrote a book applauding the KKK or lynching, I would not want to read it. I am conservative in some of my views–about art and music–but I fiercely believe in equality, the Constitution, and the Bill of Rights. And I am against fascism.
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Diane,
My posts aren’t being posted. Have you banished me?
Ponderosa
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Ponderosa,
You have not been banished. You are not in moderation. You have not left any comments that were deleted by me.
Your remarks are always welcome.
As I have often said, WordPress occasionally puts comments in moderation, meaning that I must personally approve them. This is the first time, to my knowledge, that you have ever been in moderation. It happens randomly, it has happened to frequent commenters like Bob Shepherd and Lloyd Lofthouse. Don’t take it personally.
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WordPress has a strange, indecipherable algorithm. I’ve noticed over the past few years, it moderates when names are mentioned, with no rhyme or reason. I have many that do so. I recently posted a quote by James K. Polk–just the quote, no commentary–that went into moderation. A couple of years ago, I posted one from Franz Kafka that also did. It usually informs you when your comment is in moderation. It’s not personal. And sometimes I have posted things that have disappeared in the ether. And when I try to repost them, they disappear. You should definitely not take it personally. It’s like the character John Irving’s The World According to Garp, the Undertoad. Mysterious, random and with no logic whatsoever.
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Your comment about being in moderation for no good reason was put in moderation.
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I hope you get it Ponderosa. It’s not you or your comments. It seems the Undertoad does not like you.
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I just posted a comment on this and it went into moderation! 😂
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I actually met Saul Bellow several times. He had a summer place in Halifax, Vermont, and would regularly stop by my friend John’s used bookshop, The Bear Bookshop, in Marlboro, a couple of towns over from Halifax. I was writing my Division III thesis at Hampshire College on anti-Semitism in Russian arts and letters, an area of which he had extensive knowledge (as expressed through Moses Herzog, the protagonist of the novel that bears his name) of Lev Shestov, Nikolai Berdyaev, and Konstantin Leontiev.
He was a nice, but mercurial fellow. Warm and friendly one time, standoffish and curt the next. But the couple of times I bumped into him in downtown Brattleboro, he always stopped to say hello and exchange pleasantries.
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Braggart! 😂 Very cool.
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Hahahaha! Thanks Greg. I hate to do it, but here’s the kicker: one day when “Saul” (as my friend John, closer in age than I to Mr. Bellow—as I addressed him—the man is a Nobel Laureate after all!) stopped by The Bear Bookshop, he brought along Martin Amis, with whom I discussed, of all things, the crime novelist Elmore Leonard.
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