Perversely, but perhaps appropriately, Aidan Higgins��ne of the few contemporary writers worthy of comparison with Beckett and Joyce, now celebrating his 85th year-��as chosen to wait until his
sight has nearly left him to assemble this collection of visual treats. A commonplace book of anecdotes and cartoons��he latter never before published, though familiar to all of Higgins��
correspondents from the margins of his letters and postcards��em>Blind Man�� Bluff is a compendium of tart and comic insights into sight itself, as well as other varied indignities:
personal, historical, and literary.