![]() ![]() When I first show up at Chabon’s summer home in Maine, he is in the kitchen, barefoot, making fior di latte ice cream: milk-flavored, basically, vanilla without the vanilla. You cannot tell from a man’s demeanor how much chutzpah he may have. He is hanging out with Gwen Shanks, Archy Stallings, and Nat Jaffe, the protagonists of Chabon’s new novel. And what is he doing with that time? Well, of course. Now he is at a fund-raiser in Berkeley, California, with a few minutes to spare before he must give another stirring speech on behalf of a doomed candidate. Obama is still just a state senator, fresh from rhetorically reuniting, to the thrill of at least half the nation, the red states and blue states and gay states and NRA states of the United States of America, at the event that could not yet be hashtagged #DNC04. Of all Barack Obama’s recent appearances - and, what with the upcoming election, they are legion - possibly the most startling is the one he makes 158 pages into Michael Chabon’s Telegraph Avenue. ![]()
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