Anne Hobson Freeman

I am standing on the terrace of the Alumnae House, listening to a classmate from Pem East whom I remember chiefly for her gentle wit and acne—which has cleared up completely after 25 years—and the egg stains on her pale blue woolen bathrobe. S [...]

The Surface of Earth. By Reynolds Price. Atheneum. $10.95. WHEN a work of fiction as compelling and original as Reynolds Price's latest novel comes along, it deserves evaluation in its own terms. Why should the reader worry if, in its relatively [...]

On fragile finger bones tight stretched with translucent time-spotted parchment, the coin silver spoon is barely balanced. Silently we watch it sink into the bog of cornflakes. And we wait, you and I, too shy to press for recognition. And sure enough [...]

(Dedicated to the memory of my other grandfather b. 1867 d.1938) This is the corner where he kissed me thirty-seven years ago and stepped into a Yellow Cab. Off to New York City to negotiate some business which turned out to be dying. I rem [...]

The telephone was ringing, but Louise Reeves had her girdle only halfway on. Billows of white flesh were foaming at the waistband. She couldn't stop now. No matter who that was. "Will you get it, Essie?" she shouted toward the hall. "And tell them [...]

"How about another drink?" Peter says to the out-of-town lawyer he has brought home unexpectedly for dinner. And he plucks the empty glass out of the man's hand. "A short one," he explains to me, "while you're putting dinner on the table." "But d [...]

It began bank at her birth, or at least her baptism, when she was named Clare Colston for the mother of her Richmond grandmother. Although this fact endeared her to her relatives in Richmond, it endangered her in Lexington, a dark, alien, and mount [...]