July 6, 2001

The Exaggerated Demise of the Jewish-American Writer

By ANDREW FURMAN

My grandfather Herbie, an avid basketball player in his youth, couldn't bear to watch the sport on television in his later years. Basketball died, he lamented, as soon as the slam dunk gained legitimacy. Either they raise the baskets or he wasn't watching. I invariably think of my grandfather and his disillusionment with his once-beloved sport when I read yet another obituary for contemporary Jewish-American fiction. A crippling and rather sad nostalgia seems to plague the eulogists of the