Not being much for gossip, I found it strange that I wanted to talk with my endodontist and his assistant yesterday morning. But, while the two of them worked on my root canal, they discussed a certain type of dog that I know a thing or two about (Springer Spaniel — I own one) and I kept trying to add to their conversation. Alas, as I was unable to speak, I was left to my own thoughts, which led me to thinking about thinkers. What does a philosopher look like? (good question) How well is Don DeLillo’s book of short stories doing? (Story Prize finalist) How abusive was Ernest Hemingway? (gin soaked) Who is the next author to be published by Amazon? (a librarian)  And what’s up with the Obamas? (why not?)

The end of 2011 is nigh. We’ve put up with lists and recommendations. But the annual book of revelations is not complete without a flurry of links, starting with the fifth (!) wave of the decline and fall of the American empire. Perhaps saving the Classics will save us all.  Umberto Eco is back, much to the Smart Set’s chagrin. Lapham’s explores the Rime of the Ancient Father. I leave you with Tolstoy: imperfections and all.

Like pine straw on the ground, links are scattered everywhere today. Over at Bookforum, Norman Mailer timelessly guides us over and under Marilyn Monroe. Meanwhile, Geoff Dyer remembers the art of the Penguin Modern Classics. Democracy examines Alfred Kazin’s leftward dedication. James Wood and the artful essay is brought to you by the New Yorker. And finish your reading with a tour of the New York Public Library in the age of budget cuts.

I’m not getting to it all, and it’s getting frustrating. There is so much to read and even more to be read, and the information keeps coming. Maybe that’s why we need to live longer, more time to read everything. Of course, the trajectory of time increases the amount to be read. It never ends. A second volume of Beckett’s letters are out, read as he revisits his own plays. Is the literary research market more efficient than that of reality TV? Talk about glut. Check it out of the library, just be careful which one. D.B. Cooper was ahead of the times: he was self-publishing before it was cyberly possible. Finally, ponder America’s fascination with Neitzsche.

Recessions inevitably produce periods of self-examination. Hopefully, that’s an important element in any turbulent period. The early stages of survival involve the questioning of one’s self (again, hopefully), which means we must learn in order to move forward. Maybe our first step should be an examination of the university system.  Long before the recession hit, bookstores were wondering how to stay solvent. First it was e-sales, now it’s e-libraries.  One theory is that second hand is an upper hand.  Elsewhere, Slate interviews Adam Gopnick about, among other things, the New Yorker.  Last but not least, answer this question: what happens when Groucho Marx and T.S. Eliot walk into a bar?