Still Pictures

“Superb . . . [The] final, splendid, most personal work of [Janet Malcolm’s] long career.” —Charles Finch, The New York Times Book Review For decades, Janet Malcolm’s books and dispatches for The New Yorker and The New York Review of Books poked and prodded at reportorial and biographical convention, gesturing toward the artifice that underpins both public and private selves. In Still Pictures , she turns her gimlet eye on her own life—a task demanding a writer just as peerlessly skillful as she