End Matter Matters

“Liner notes junkie” is an appellation this writer wears like a badge of honor. I might not be able to tell you where I set my keys down last night, but I can definitely tell you who played bass on side two, track three of that ’70s progressive rock album. In the same vein, whether a book is a slender novella or an epic-length biography, I always, always, always read the acknowledgements. The reasons are many. For one thing, acknowledgements demolish the illusion that a book is entirely the result of a single person’s efforts. For another, they demonstrate gratitude in a world that too often behaves as if manners are a relic of the past. (And yes, though my lawn is very small, please do get off it.) But what fascinates me the most about them is the peek behind the curtain they offer, into the world of the...

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