Books
Bruni bio addresses stroke, vision loss, relationship woes
‘Beauty of Dusk’ from gay NYT writer a compelling read
‘The Beauty of Dusk: On Vision Lost and Found’
By Frank Bruni
c.2022, Avid Reader Press
$28/304 pages
One day I was walking, white cane in hand, with a friend to get coffee in Dupont Circle in D.C. “How do you handle being blind,” he asked me.
“Practice! Practice! Practice!” I said, riffing on the old joke about how you get to Carnegie Hall.
“Old age ain’t no place for sissies,” the inimitable Bette Davis said.
The same can be said of blindness. Though, as is the case with elders, many of us who are blind live fulfilling lives. Like our sighted peers, we likely won’t get to Carnegie Hall. But we’ll laugh and love as well as mourn and cry.
Frank Bruni, author of the insightful new memoir “The Beauty of Dusk: Vision Lost and Found,” probably won’t perform at Carnegie Hall. But he is a show-stopper of a writer!
Bruni’s still lighting up the writing stage. Though in 2017 at age 52, he lost as, he writes in the memoir, a “big chunk” of the vision in his right eye.
If you’re sighted, this may amaze you – just as young people are often astonished that anyone over 50 still dances, let alone, has sex.
In “The Beauty of Dusk,” Bruni illuminates what many blind people know. Blindness comes with hardships. But being blind needn’t keep you from your passions.
Bruni, who’s gay, has been a prominent journalist for more than three decades.
He’s been a movie critic for the Detroit Free Press. In his 25 years with The New York Times, he’s worked as the Times Rome bureau chief and the paper’s chief restaurant critic. He’s covered the Catholic Church sexual abuse scandal, U.S. presidents and celebs. For fans of “The Golden Girls,” his 2011 interview of Betty White is a must-read.
Along the way, Bruni’s written several books on everything from college admissions to meatloaf recipes. If Julia Child and Edward R. Murrow had a love child, it would be Bruni.
Looking in from the outside, you might think that Bruni lives a charmed life.
In many ways, your perception would be spot on.
His position at the Times has enabled him to live a privileged life, though it’s well deserved. Bruni is highly talented and works like a demon. Currently, along with being a contributing opinion writer for the Times, Bruni teaches classes in media at Duke University’s school of public policy.
Yet as “The Beauty of Dusk” vividly shows, what we believe life is like for people, no matter how exciting their lives seem to be, is often wrong. Privilege isn’t an antidote against loss.
One night, Bruni had a stroke. As a result of the stroke (and the drop of blood pressure from it), he became blind in his right eye. Doctors told him there was a 40 percent chance that he would lose the vision in his left eye. Thankfully, this hasn’t happened.
This experience for Bruni, pun intended, was an eye opener.
A self-confident Boomer who believed there was a fix for everything, he suddenly realized that not everything could be managed.
“I went to bed believing that I was more or less in control of my life,” Bruni writes, “that the unfinished business, unrealized dreams and other disappointments were essentially failures of industry and imagination and could probably be redeemed with a fierce enough effort.”
“I woke up,” he writes, “to the realization of how ludicrous that was.”
Though Bruni couldn’t repair his vision loss, he still had his journalistic chops. His friend Nora Ephron’s dictum “everything is copy” was his mantra.
To learn about what it’s like to be blind or to have another disability, Bruni interviews several people. Those he profiles include a blind judge, a college friend with Parkinson’s and a blind lieutenant governor who decides to become a priest.
As is frequently the case with life, we aren’t faced with just one painful event at a time.
After his stroke, Bruni discovers that his long-time romantic partner Tom has been unfaithful. During the pandemic, he cares for his father who has dementia.
The memoir is poignant, witty and engrossing when Bruni writes of his personal journey. About what it was like for him to discover how to move forward after his loss.
You root for him as he deals with doctors who show little concern for his emotional well-being and fall in love with his dog Regan.
The volume is not as strong when Bruni writes about disability or other disabled people. Perhaps this is due to Bruni being more privileged than many disabled people. Maybe it’s because he has only recently experienced vision loss.
But there is nothing in the memoir about deaf or disability culture and little about the discrimination and prejudice that disabled people encounter. This is disappointing from an author who’s written so often about LGBTQ rights.
Despite these caveats, “The Beauty of Dusk” is one of the best memoirs I’ve read in ages. It’s a beautiful read.
Books
New books reveal style trends for a more enlightened century
Guidelines that hint about gendering clothing are out
Books about Fashion and Style
By various authors
c.2026, various publishers
$19.95 – $29.95
Don’t look now, but your legs are showing.
It’s OK, it’s almost summertime and you want to show both skin and style. So how about a few hints for looking your best? Check out these great books and get stylin’.
Who says there are rules about fashion? Wearing white before Memorial Day is OK; socks with sandals not so much? Fine, but in “Bending the Rules: Fashion Beyond the Binary” by Camille Benda with Gwyn Conaway (Princeton Architectural Press, $29.95), you’ll see that any guidelines that hint about gendering clothing are oh-so-last century.
Along with lively, fun narrative, there are lots of photos in this book, ads for how clothing used to be worn along male-female lines, and short biographies of some of today’s best designers. Here, you can check out prom dresses from the 1950s and new haute couture gowns practically right off the runway – and see how one parallels with the other. The timeline reaches back centuries, so you get a nice idea of where certain kinds of clothing originated and how it’s relevant today – making what’s inside here perfect for browsing.
Pick up this book, in fact, and you might also pick up some ideas for filling your closet and creating your very own style.
The fashion you wear on your body isn’t all you’ll find in “Pretend to Be Fancy: A Field Guide to Style and Sophistication” by Whitney Marston Pierce (Chronicle Books, $19.95). You’ll also read about other nice things you can have.
So you’re not a pinky-in-the-air kind of person, whatever. You can easily hang with those who are, once you read and absorb this book.
Tongue-tied at fancy soirees? Not anymore, there are tips for talking here. What do you know about canapes, hors d’oeuvres, and the kind of foods you don’t get at the corner c-store? How do you make a charcuterie that everyone will Ooooooh over? And how do you give a gift for the person whose taste seems scads better than yours? That’s all in here, along with what to drink, how to dress, and how to make every corner of your home look like something right out of a high-end magazine.
Will this book make you chic? Possibly, yes. Will it help you get invited to all the best parties? Maybe, but for sure, it’ll make you laugh, it’ll make you feel fabulous, look fabulous, and live your best life with the surroundings you deserve. Out May 5, so put it on your list.
But let’s say you need more ideas. You have questions or thorny issues with fashion that you really need answering. That’s when you ask for a talented fashionista at your local bookstore or library, that knowledgeable someone knows books and knows how to get what you need to be your most dazzling, best-dressed, finest-appointed self in a home you can be proud of, with comfortable furniture that will be the envy of everyone who sees it.
In the meantime, grab the above titles, because these books got legs.
‘La Lucci’
By Susan Lucci with Laura Morton
c.2026, Blackstone Publishing
$29.99/196 pages
They’re among the world’s greatest love stories.
You know them well: Marc Antony and Cleopatra. Abelard and Heloise. Phoebe and Langley. Cliff and Nina. Jesse and Angie, Opal and Palmer, Palmer and Daisy, Tad and Dixie. Now read “La Lucci” by Susan Lucci, with Laura Morton, and you might also think of Susan and Helmut.

When she was a very small girl, Susan Lucci loved to perform. Also when she was young, she learned that words have power. She vowed to use them for good for the rest of her life.
Her parents, she says, were supportive and her family, loving. Because of her Italian heritage, she was “ethnic looking” but Lucci’s mother was careful to point out dark-haired beauties on TV and elsewhere, giving Lucci a foundation of confidence.
That’s just one of the things for which Lucci says she’s grateful. In fact, she says, “Prayers of gratitude are how I begin and end each day.”
She is particularly grateful for becoming a mother to her two adult children, and to the doctors who saved her son’s life when he was a newborn.
Lucci writes about gratitude for her long career. She was a keystone character on TV’s “All My Children,” and she learned a lot from older actors on the show, and from Agnes Nixon, the creator of it. She says she still keeps in touch with many of her former costars.
She is thankful for her mother’s caretakers, who stepped in when dementia struck. Grateful for more doctors, who did heart-saving work when Lucci had a clogged artery. Grateful for friends, opportunities, life, grandchildren, and a career that continues.
And she’s grateful for the love she shared with her husband, Helmut Huber, who died nearly four years ago. Grateful for the chance to grieve, to heal, and to continue.
And yet, she says of her husband: “He was never timid, but I know he was afraid at the end, and that kills me down to my soul.”
“It’s been 15 years since Erica Kane and I parted ways,” says author Susan Lucci (with Laura Morton), and she says that people still approach her to confirm or deny rumors of the show’s resurrection. There’s still no answer to that here (sorry, fans), but what you’ll find inside “La Lucci” is still exceptionally generous.
If this book were just filled with stories, you’d like it just fine. If it was only about Lucci’s faith and her gratitude – words that happen to appear very frequently here – you’d still like reading it. But Lucci tells her stories of family, children and “All My Children,” while also offering help to couples who’ve endured miscarriage, women who’ve had heart problems, and widow(ers) who are spinning and need the kindness of someone who’s lived loss, too.
These are the other things you’ll find in “La Lucci,” in a voice you’ll hear in your head, if you spent your lunch hours glued to the TV back in the day. It’s a comfortable, fun read for fans. It’s a story you’ll love.
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Books
Risking it all for love during World War II
New book follows story of Black, gay expat in Paris
‘The Remarkable Life of Reed Peggram’
By Ethelene Whitmire
c.2026, Viking
$30/308 pages
You couldn’t escape it.
When you fell in love, that was it: you were there for good. Leaving your amour’s side was unthinkable, turning away was impossible. You’d do anything for that person you loved – even, as in the new biography, “The Remarkable Life of Reed Peggram” by Ethelene Whitmire, you’d escape toward danger.

On Aug. 28, 1938, Reed Peggram boarded a ship from Hoboken, N.J., hoping to “become a proper gentleman” and fulfill his dreams. A prolific writer and Harvard scholar of comparative literature, he’d recently been awarded the Rosenwald Fellowship, which put him in the company of literary stars like Du Bois, Hurston, and Hughes.
Both Peggram’s mother and grandmother were then domestic workers, and they had big expectations for him. Reed himself was eager to study abroad, for professional and personal reasons; he was “determined to become a French professor and an accomplished linguist” and “He also hoped to find love.”
What better place to do it than in Paris?
Outgoing and confident, Peggram made friends easily and had no trouble moving “through the world of his white male peers.” Where he faltered was in his lack of funds. He relied on the kindness of his many friends – one of whom introduced Peggram to a “man who would become so pivotal in his life,” a Danish man named Arne.
Peggram and Arne had a lot in common, and they began to enmesh their lives and dreams of living in the United States. But there were complications: homosexuality was largely forbidden, World War II was in its early stages, and it quickly became apparent that it was dangerous to stay in Europe.
And yet, Peggram loved Arne. He refused to leave without him and so, while most visiting Black Americans fled the war in Europe, “Reed was trying to stay.”
There’s so much more to the story inside “The Remarkable Life of Reed Peggram,” so much to know about Reed himself. Problem is, it’s a long haul to get to the good stuff.
In her introduction, author Ethelene Whitmire explains how she came to this tale and yes, it needs telling but probably not with the staggering number of inconsequential details here. Peggram moved homes a lot, and many people were involved in keeping him in Europe. That alone can be overwhelming; add the fact that costs and other monetary issues are mentioned in what seems like nearly every page, and you may wonder if you’ll ever find the reason for the book’s subtitle.
It’s there, nearly halfway through the book, which is when the tale takes a tender, urgent turn — albeit one with determination, rashness, and a dash of faux nonchalance. Also, if you’re expecting an unhappily-ever-after because, after all, it’s a World War II tale, don’t assume anything.
Reading this book will take a certain amount of patience, so skip it if you don’t have that fortitude. If you’re OK with minuscule details and want a heart-pounder, though, “The Remarkable Life of Reed Peggram” might be a good escape.
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