In the evenings he played cards with Grandmamma who, mellowed by age, showed an increasing fondness for her grandson and by intentionally losing enabled him to win the small sums he needed to buy books.
Prometheus: The Life of Balzac by Andre Maurois
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I have the book you mention. It is a veritable mine of insights into his literary development. Much of my anecdotes have been from it.
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I agree, Benny. It is one of the best. Years ago I read the one by Stefan Zweig and it is very readable too.
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I read Zweig first. I was so impressed that I literally copied it in longhand ad later I found it paled in comparison with the work of Maurois.
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