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It can be any kind of heart break, not just romantic. All interpretations of the term are welcome, even the not-so-serious.

Late in “Literary Brooklyn,” Evan Hughes quotes the opening words of a Paul Auster novel: “The address is unimportant. But let’s say Brooklyn Heights, for the sake of argument.” For Hughes, the address is terrifically important, as he charts New York’s most-­populated but (his description) “less exceptional” borough. We learn which writers lived where, which were neighbors or enemies; which houses no longer stand and which are now worth $18 million. Meanwhile, the argument that emerges, recedes, rallies and falters throughout is that Brooklyn, because more human in scale, is more American than Manhattan and has particular stories to tell about the rest of the land.

LITERARY BROOKLYN

The Writers of Brooklyn and the Story of American City Life

Fiction by Haruki Murakami

At Koenji Station, Tengo boarded the Chuo Line inbound rapid-service train. The car was empty. He had nothing planned that day. Wherever he went and whatever he did (or didn’t do) was entirely up to him. It was ten o’clock on a windless summer morning, and the sun was beating down. The train passed Shinjuku, Yotsuya, Ochanomizu, and arrived at Tokyo Central Station, the end of the line. Everyone got off, and Tengo followed suit. Then he sat on a bench and gave some thought to where he should go. “I can go anywhere I decide to,” he told himself. “It looks as if it’s going to be a hot day. I could go to the seashore.” He raised his head and studied the platform guide.

At that point, he realized what he had been doing all along… (Read more.)

“Literacy unlocks the door to learning throughout life, is essential to the development and health, and opens the way for democratic participation and active citizenship.” - Kofi Annan, former United Nations Secretary-General

Recently, I had the great fortune of visiting Southeast Asia, where I attended a summer Reading Day event at a school library in Vietnam’s Mekong Delta. As part of my participation in the day’s activities, I offered to “read” a story to the students. Challenged with the task of conveying a story written in a language I couldn’t read, I chose to act out a story using the book’s colorful pictures as my inspiration. This impromptu story received more than a few giggles — even from my own five-year-old daughter, who was traveling with me and happily joined in the festivities.

Although a sweet memory, that moment in Vietnam also served as a poignant reminder of the challenges faced by the 796 million people in the world today who cannot read or write. I had experienced only a fleeting panic when I realized that I couldn’t read the story, yet how would it feel to deal with this challenge on a daily basis? Just for a moment, imagine coursing through one day as an illiterate person, unable to read your morning newspaper, a medication bottle, signs on the road, labels at the grocery store, or a story to your child… (Read more.)