In 1928, just after he published his first novel, Morley Callaghan asked his editor, "Do you think The New Yorker would be a good magazine for my stories? They have never printed fiction before, but are going to start with that story of mine called 'An Escapade.'" Through these short stories from Callaghan—whom Ernest Hemingway compared to James Joyce—readers will realize just how good a fit is was.

Callaghan's writing is wide ranging but often takes on the perspective of a marginalized individual's view of the human experience. These tales are told in a variety of voices: street hustlers, priests, blues singers, Holocaust survivors, cross-dressers, paramilitary snipers, even those we may euphemistically consider the "ordinary"—all of them authentic, and all would subscribe to the maxim that "happiness is overrated." The dialogue is true to speech as it is spoken, shot through with hu...

Barry Callaghan and Joe Rosenblatt, poets of perspicacity, pizzazz, and probity, have been combative, ecstatic compadres for over 40 years, with Callaghan donning an array of chapeaus, the man of belles lettres and hog flaneur-on-the-hoof from Smooth City, while Rosenblatt decades ago declared his unconditional allegiance to the buzzzers, chirpers, and purrers of the natural world, to remain at peace by his pond, aloof from the human horde. This most unlikely pair are conjoined by their sh...