Indian Summer is a delight, not only for the awkward May-December romance that manages to avoid the creepy but also for the lovely commentary on middle age. Howells gets the dramatic irony of a witty man who can’t seem to find happiness.
The Threadgill autobiography is a breeze. The Zelig of free jazz: all the expected stuff about AACM plus stories about Vietnam, Chicago city colleges, New York art loft improv, Count Basie, Artur Rubinstein, Coltrane, and so on.
