The Brooklyn Rail

Ah, the instant and enduring rapport John and I had. I loved the man like a brother and I loved his wide-ranging work. I said publicly about his remarkable Talking Heads: 77—still one of my favorite Domini books—that he manages to be both cutting-edge and splendidly readable. And that is oh so true of so much of his writing. Indeed, I discovered him thus in 1980, the year before the publication of my first novel. He had a brilliant story in the Paris Review entitled “Laugh Kookaberry, Laugh Kookaberry, Gay Your Life Must Be,” which made us party to Dante consorting with the damned in Hell. In an argument between two devils one challenges the other: “Does memory have its limits?” The other responds, “Yes, I can’t remember when we first met.” Whatever the limits of memory, we will never forget the essence of our wonderful John Domini.