There are biographies, and then there are psychological biographies. The fallacies and hazards of the psychobiography form are easy to name, but the form can produce miracles when used well. Donald E. Pease's Theodor Seuss Geisel, a brief, spirited new study of the life and work of the great Dr. Seuss, provides a satisfying and surprising look at the motivations and half-hidden meanings behind classic children's books like Cat in the Hat, Green Eggs and Ham and How The Grinch Stole Christmas.

The biographer brings out the heavy psychological equipment to analyze the first Dr. Seuss children's book, And To Think That I Saw It On Mulberry Street, published in 1937 when the author was 33 years old. The book depicts a child with a vivid imagination facing off against a stern father who rejects his son's artistic spirit. Pease argues convincingly that young Theodor Seuss Geisel's moral battle with his strict father shaped everything about his work, and that it was the very intensity of this father-son battle that gave the early Dr. Seuss books their power and energy.

I'm really impressed that 104 of 148 commenters who guessed about the mystery literary photo I posted on Wednesday correctly identified The Great Gatsby as the novel in question. Four other novels that got some mentions were To Kill A Mockingbird, Huckleberry Finn, Of Mice and Men and The Grapes of Wrath. Reasonable guesses all, but the fact that the photo was taken in 1924 was the giveaway.

The author of the remarkable essay I posted here yesterday about the state of literary criticism in 1962 was John O'Hara, and it appeared as the introduction to his short story collection The Cape Cod Lighter, published by Random House in 1962.

1. Japanese search parties have found the remains of poet and volcano enthusiast Craig Arnold, who had been running a blog called The Volcano Pilgrim. Jacket Copy's piece on Craig's death is the best of many I've read.

I went to see a new production of George Gershwin's Porgy and Bess at the Lyric Opera in Chicago. I like to go to the opera, but I can only afford to sit in the cheap seats in the second balcony, up in the very stratosphere of the opera house.

Please correct me if I'm missing something, but I've always considered V. S. Naipaul more of a monument than a writer. I make it a habit to ask friends and acquaintances what books they are excited about or which they consider lifelong favorites and I have never heard Naipaul's name come up. The several times I've tried to read him I got quickly mired down in pools of self-satisfied dullness and quickly concluded that I must have picked the wrong title among his many, many books to try. Yet George Packer calls V. S.

1. From the website of fictional politician Charles H. P. Smith, apparently on last year's Mark Foley scandal:

It seems to me that, at issue here is not the morality of the Legislators, but that of the pages: can we not fill these positions with young folks who can just say “no”?

On immigration:

So, apparently it is time to buy things for other people? Something like that? Here are some interesting and (mostly) literature- and writing-related gift ideas that you can keep in mind as you scour the internet for gifts. (Do people even go to the mall anymore?) They all go well with fruitcake. Enjoy.

Note: For the first time in the entire two-something-year history of Jamelah Reads the Classics, I am reading books out of order. According to my list, I should've kicked things off with To the Lighthouse by Virginia Woolf, but I'm not because I recently finished this one and I want to write about it right now. So I have to save Virginia Woolf for next time. If any are necessary, you have my apologies.