"In a way, I suppose you could say all of us were and are lost, and know it, and we simply try to settle into our lost-ness as comfortably and with as much good manners and little curiosity as we can"
Jacket Copy: As a sportswriter, Frank Bascombe makes his living studying people—men, mostly—who live entirely within themselves. This is a condition that Frank himself aspires to. But at thirty-eight, he suffers from incurable dreaminess, occasional pounding of the heart, and the not-too-distant losses of a career, a son, and a marriage. And in the course of the Easter week in which Richard Ford’s wonderfully eloquent and moving novel transpires, Bascombe will end up losing the remnants of his familiar life, though with spirits soaring. With finely honed prose and an eye that captures the beauty and strangeness of our most neglected landscapes, Richard Ford creates a novel whose portrait of heroic decency is guaranteed to linger with us long after we have turned its last page.
Similar to: Virginia Woolf, Jack Kerouac’s On the Road, Richard Yates, Nicholson Baker
-- Explains how its possible to be both an optimist AND a realist at the same time, to recognize that their ugly and cruel parts to life and to the world but to not dwell on them so much that it prevents you from enjoying and appreciating the better parts of life.
--The title of this book is somewhat misleading, since it isn't really "about" sports or about "writing" so much as its about the isolation and loneliness of modern life.
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