…The Assassin’s Cloak, edited by Irene and Alan Taylor.
Organized chronologically, these are journal entries by the likes of Pepys, Tolstoy and Alcott, but also by those with names we don’t recognize at all. Example: a Red Cross volunteer on the French front in 1914 who matter-of-factly describes shells flying over her head as she is ladling out soup and comments, wryly one presumes, “Ladling out the soup is great fun.”
Most entries are at least a paragraph long, observations on personal or world events. Some, like this one, could be tweets: “All my life I’ve arrived at the station just after the Orient Express has left.” (Dawn Powell quoting Coburn Gilman, and I know just how he feels.)
Anyone who keeps a journal (or, like me, attempts to), would love this book. There, see? It was given to me by a friend about ten years ago, and I’m still talking about it.