It is one thing to find yourself indoors on a fine Saturday morning reading an exhaustive investigative piece about Henry Jamesâ€™s testicular injury. It is another to finish reading and think, â€œWow, I have some additional thoughts about Henry Jamesâ€™s testicular injury that might be of interest to the investigator.â€
Thus began my erstwhile correspondence with the Literary Dick (as in Private Detective), Michael Wood. Thatâ€™s the beauty of the Internet, in my opinion, its ability to put you in touch with people with shared interests.
Jonathan Ames reports that the Literary Dick has been listed as a bona fide private detective service. Thatâ€™s the other beauty of the Internet, in my opinion: Complete misinformation.
I see that heâ€™s looking into Ernest Hemingwayâ€™s cross-dressing, branched into author Q & A, and that his (and I assume, Mr. Amesâ€™s) interest in the penis continues unabated:
Literary Dick: Do you ever talk to your penis?
Author Gary Sherbell: In the novel, before Goren is cursed with the penile transformation, he gets shot down by a woman in a bar, on a blind date, and he says to his penis, half in jest, “Well, Johnny, we blew that one.” Now, if that’s what you mean by “talking” to my penis, then I suppose that I, too, have “talked” to my penis, a couple of times over the years. Fortunately, though, to my knowledge, it never talked back, so we never engaged in an actual conversation.