I started Volume I of the Paris Review Interviews over the weekend. I read the first four, Dorothy Parker, Ernest Hemingway, T.S. Eliot, and Truman Capote. Each had an interesting way of talking, distinctive. A little surprise because interviews by journalists tend to be flat -- the words change but not the tone or language. These are not that. It should not have surprised because I subscribe to the Paris Review and have been reading the interviews for awhile. Still, these were all interviews from the early days of the journal. Parker's interview sounded like her, by which I mean sounded like the woman whose stories I've read. Same with Capote -- and also reminded me I have not read much of his work, and brought to mind a reading on the radio of a portion of The Grass Harp which was moving. Hemingway's interview was kind of strange for me. I have not read a biography of him or much criticism, and a long time since I read the novels. The interview seemed quite formal, and of its time. It reminded my of essays by James Wright or James Dickey -- talk of truth and courage and the like; dated and a little foreign. Maybe it is just the pastness of the language, way of talking about the work that led me to think it foreign. Eliot's interview was, as promised, funny. I am going to reread the Four Quartets. I wonder if I have a recording of Murder int he Cathedral? What a peculiar kid I was -- it was one of the records I bought as a teenager, along with Jethro Tull.