The only good compliment I ever got was at a reception after a lecture I gave at a small college in Missouri. The provost’s wife, who was handing out prizes to the students who had written the best essays about my book, was sitting next to me, and after we had talked about her life, she said, in reference to absolutely nothing, “You know, I didn’t like the book.” “No?” I said. “No.” She thought for a moment. “But you could tell all the words were in the right place.” Then she nodded firmly once, as if that sealed the subject of my attributes forever, which no doubt for her it did. But I
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