Kevin Kerrane

The Art of Fact lives up to its billing as literary journalism;
unfortunately, it is also pretty depressing.

Not that the reporting isn't often impressive; it's the selection of content that can weigh readers down,
getting us off to a rip roaring start with a hanging and moving into Dickens totally without redemption...

it would have been welcome if Whitman had led off the collection. It's one to end wars forever.

"Bronx Slave market" was brutally honest.

"Armies of the Night" offered Mailer's self-absorbed and humorless tedium.

It works as an uneven collection from the opening horror and onto more boring tedium (Tom Wolfe) and into brilliant (John McPhee).

"Juke Joint" was the most readable and Hershey's HIROSHIMA the most powerful.

Wars and violence and more cruelty than can be imagined -
is this the best that humans can come up with after climbing down the trees and crossing the savannas?

It was also surprising not to see Mary McGrory's evocative JFK writing
alongside Jimmy Breslin's lighter "It's an Honor."… (mere)