The New Yorker arrives with relentless regularity even though our subscription expired in July. This week, there are excerpts from a diary Flannery O’Connor kept in when she was in her twenties, recently accepted to the Iowa Workshop. My first reaction was indignation. Clearly these were the private struggles of a young, truly spiritual woman and NOT MEANT TO BE READ by anyone else. Why are they here? And why did they use such an unflattering photo? Poor Flannery. Continue reading “The tortures of the damned”