Anton Chekhov walked into a book I was writing about fifty pages into the first draft. He wasn’t yet leaning on the cane that so often appears in photographs of him from the years that his energy was diminished by tuberculosis, and he didn’t yet peer through a pince-nez. He came striding into my manuscript with energetic purpose: a tall bearded young man with dark hair combed back from his forehead. I had been drafting chapters, trying to work out how ethnographers might acquire tools for vivid storytelling used by writers of creative nonfiction and also how writers of creative...
|Title of host publication||The Anthropologist as Writer|
|Place of Publication||Oxford, United Kingdom|
|Publication status||Published - 2016|