Though this book’s been reviewed a quadrillion times across the spectrum of print, paper, ones and zeroes, I’ve come to understand that it can be seen two ways.

First, James Salter’s A Sport and a Pastime can be read as a book about the details of an affair, and seen only slightly as a forest, instead for the litany of carefully crafted trees. To this end, enough has been written about Salter’s style. He’s an unstoppable paragon of enlightened word choice. Agreed and accepted. Salter can write about anything and make that anything seem like something. Details, careful as they may be, read to some like trivialities only those interested in beautiful prose will care to read.

Granted, it’s a beautiful read, and reading the book this way is just fine.