Memoirs through poignant, witty letters written by a self-taught immigrant to his professor grandson in the Sixties, first published by Little, Brown and now in a new paperback. Both sweet and acerbic, with plenty of subtext and wistfulness of dreams of philosophy or just going to college, the book compels attention for its strong characters deftly revealed by short letters--and always the stern correction of the "stubborn" grandson. Joseph Bercovici was proud of his "clan" of writers, artists, and professors, but was noticeably envious of their opportunities, the kind that had long passed him by. He shared himself deeply, if often unwittingly, in letters to a grandson, Joel, who was in the midst of becoming an acclaimed political scientist. Joseph chided the 6'4" "boy" on his VW, choosing political science and law as fields of study, using computers, and--very interesting even today--the remarkable subtleties of English. But, irregardless (someone finally explains why that's wrong ), there is much life and love shared between them. With the letters skillfully compiled by clan-addition Mary H. Grossman, the story and his remarkable character unfold without our ever seeing a reply letter. Through Joseph's searing but sometime naive eyes, the fascinating story of a family of prodigies is revealed, warts and all. ...Turns out, the poor immigrant did become an author, as with many of his children and descendants still, and this is his book. We have all had a grandfather just like this; and none of us has.