'Alternately lyrical and laugh-out-loud funny.' 'New York Times' Deliciously readable . . . Donald Hall, if abandoned by the muse of poetry, has wrought his prose to a keen autumnal edge. ' Wall Street Journal' His entire life, Donald Hall has dedicated himself to the written word, putting together a storied career as a poet, essayist, and memoirist. Now, in the unknown, unanticipated galaxy of very old age, he is writing essays that startle, move, and delight. In'Essays After Eighty, 'Hall ruminates on his past: thirty was terrifying, forty I never noticed because I was drunk, fifty was best with a total change of life, sixty extended the bliss of fifty . . . He also addresses his present: When I turned eighty and rubbed testosterone on my chest, my beard roared like a lion and gained four inches. Most memorably, Hall writes about his enduring love affair with his ancestral Eagle Pond Farm and with the writing life that sustains him every day: Yesterday my first nap was at 9:30 a.m., but when I awoke I wrote again. Alluring, inspirational hominess . . .'Essays After Eighty'is a treasure . . . balancing frankness about losses with humor and gratitude. ' Washington Post' A fine book of remembering all sorts of things past, 'Essays After Eighty'is to be treasured. 'Boston Globe''