Joshua Korber Hoffman

Rosen, with his gift for reading, holds the audience in his large hands. He is frailer now than he once was, but he has a grandfatherly twinkle in his eye. As I believe they used to say before the internet: “I would listen to him read the phone book.” Combined with his writing – vivid yet unpretentious, poetic almost without one noticing – Rosen seems to conjure the warm flicker of a campfire from the darkness of his loss.