(Sundays at 4:00 pm on WOSU 89.7 FM)
BOOKS
Compilations of a columnist's work don't tend to impress me. They can be dated in relevance and have the taste of leftovers, which is why I had my doubts about Michael Greenberg's new book, "Beg, Borrow, Steal: A Writer's Life." It's a collection of his columns that have appeared in the Times Literary Supplement over the past six years.
Also, I've had my fill of writers' expositions about their trade.
But I had read Greenberg's excellent memoir, published last year. From it, I came to know this author's edgy individualism. So I knew he had the talent to be different with this kind of literary endeavor.
My instinct proved correct: Beg, Borrow, Steal is a delightful journey through a well-lived life in New York City. The 44 chapters-once-columns stand alone and yet, pulled together, flow like a river of many surprises.
They are about a writer's life — not the trade, as I mistakenly assumed. Indeed, we're served up vivid anecdotes extracted from the jobs, friends and family, let alone the unexpected, in Greenberg's native New York.
In one chapter, he visits the soup kitchen at the Broadway Presbyterian Church on 114th Street. The chef there has cooked in some of the city's top kitchens. Because of his connections he gets prime leftovers from his contacts. The day Greenberg visits, the chef serves cheese fondue, a salad of organic lettuce, catfish fillets in a fancy sauce and peach crumble.
Here's what Greenberg writes:
"...I sat down awkwardly in one of the few vacant chairs. The man next to me gripped his newspaper so I wouldn't steal it. Then, a heavy-set man with an enormous Afro accused me of being an FBI agent.
He rushed toward me. "I know who you are," he said, and punched me sharply in the ribs. A sigh seemed to go around the room, or perhaps a twitter of laughter. I assured him that we had never met, dropping my eyes because the stare in which we locked seemed to agitate him further.
My neighbor with the newspaper explained: "It's because you're carrying that pad. Folks don't like it when you write things down."
From the moment he decided not go into the family business and be a writer instead, Greenberg vowed to be his own boss. He's worked as a street vendor, chauffeur, waiter, interpreter, ghost writer and cab driver, among other money-earning ventures that allowed him time to write.
In the entertaining story about the time he sold cosmetics on the street, Greenberg shares this advice from his grandfather:
"Remember what I'm saying, Michael: more important than what you do for a living is who you do it for. Are you slaving for another man's fortune? Or can you hold your head up and call yourself your own boss?"
The more I read of Greenberg's life, the more I wanted to keep reading. The chapters are short, up to 5 pages each, and loud with wit, wisdom and irony. Many are simply perfect. All are rooted in Greenberg's native New York.
My favorite of all of the chapters is "Notes of an Anti-Traveler." Greenberg chronicles his daily commute as a joke on himself, because he hadn't traveled more than 50 miles from New York City in almost a decade.
It's not just the story that's delightful but the conclusion he reaches. It's another interpretation of smelling the proverbial roses but I like his version, what Greenberg calls the happy intensity that comes from being still.
Greenberg's father once told him he had more guts than common sense – that's the stuff of good books.
"Beg, Borrow, Steal: A Writer's Life" by Michael Greenberg is published by Other Press.
I'm Kassie Rose.
© Copyright 2009, WOSU
