Fante & Black
My younger brother bought me Fante for my fortieth birthday. I was just reading Jack Black’s You Can’t Win which I’d been given by a new acquaintance. It was the weirdest month since and something akin to the feeling I experienced when first hearing The Jam’s “Setting Sons” and The Clash’s “London Calling” as an eleven year old.
To this day I find it hard to believe that it took me so long to discover John Fante. When I finished Dreams From Bunker Hill I went on the phone to commiserate with my young brother about “no more Arturo” and I meant it.