
                         Roanoke Times
                 Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.

DATE: MONDAY, October 23, 1995                   TAG: 9510230092
SECTION: EXTRA                    PAGE: 1   EDITION: METRO 
SOURCE: BEN BEAGLE
DATELINE:                                 LENGTH: Medium

I'M A ROUGH-HEWN SORT OF GUY

This book-club dividend called "Writer's Houses" is not something you would exactly kill for, but it hurts that my little shack on Happy Highfields Road is not included.

This is the kind of book you put on the coffee table along with your fascinating copy of "Ethnic Dress." This wouldn't offend anybody because nobody who is non-family has been in our living room since 1989.

(Incidentally, as far as I'm concerned, ethnic dress on Happy Highfields includes a sloppy-looking pair of blue sweatpants, a T-shirt from the 50th anniversary of Radford High School's class of 1944, and a pair of seedy Reeboks with cleverly spaced black paint stains on them. This not to suggest that the neighbors' ethnic dress is as disgusting as mine.)

I hate to admit it, but there are people in this book I've never heard of - including this guy Carlo Dossi, who sounds like a linebacker to me.

His house is a palace. He must have written a lot of bestsellers like "The Bridges of Madison County" to afford that. No telling what he could get on a reverse mortgage.

(A psychiatrist would probably tell me to forget about "The Bridges" and get on with my life. Somehow, I just can't.)

There is a picture in the promo for this book that shows a room in the cottage of poet Dylan Thomas. There's something wrong here. The bed is made and everything looks dusted and I don't think that's the way Dylan did things.

The promo talks about the "rough-hewn domesticity" of Dylan's cottage.

If these people are really interested in that sort of thing, they ought to come up and see us sometime.

We'd show 'em "rough-hewn domesticity" they could put in the bank.

We'd show 'em the famous leaking commode and let 'em listen to the threatening gargling noises the heating system makes at night.

I know they probably wouldn't want to take a picture of a commode but I've got a woodpile that is what "rough-hewn domesticity" is all about.

I'm not against this book as a general matter. If you want to spend three of your dividend credits, plus $24.95, go ahead. Hey. Get the one about French-style vegetables for two credits and $16.20 and give it to somebody you don't like for Christmas.

You can see I'm making every effort not to be nasty here. I'll admit, however, that if Carlo Dossi has, or had, a leaking commode or two in his palace it wouldn't exactly tear me up.

by CNB