I love this bit in The Guardian's interview with Robert Caro. via.
It makes me want to try harder. Or at least make sure every bit of writing I do includes an extra pass where I try and think about this stuff.
'Caro’s own prose makes me think of waves: in the paragraphs roll, grandiose as anything, crashing against the shore as he winds them up with a last, very short sentence. “Well, that’s from Paradise, um…” He shakes his head. “I don’t compare myself with Milton, but great works can be models. He [Milton] has these long lines about Satan falling and falling and then, suddenly, the rhythm changes. I try to do things with rhythm. In the second volume, Johnson is campaigning in Texas in a helicopter, and he’s so desperate. I wrote on an index card: is there desperation on this page? I meant in the rhythm. I want to reinforce the reader’s understanding with that rhythm.” '
On the other hand, it seems like Robert Caro might have a blind spot about LBJ's treatment of women.
UNRELATED
I've been going to the same barber for about 17 years. Every haircut happens in total blissful silence. Then, yesterday, he asked me if I'd been on holiday. I said 'no'. End of talking.
Here's to the next 17 years.