Talbot Spivak's first (and, to my knowledge, only) novel, published in 1972, blends the philosophy of Pascal with an affection for rural life--in particular, an appreciation for the sensibilities of farm cats--in a stylish and literary comedy. I may be the only person who's read it. Spivak was the husband of one of my college professors; otherwise, I might never have heard of it. The narrator is an asthmatic Philadelphian who is worried about the draft (the story is set in the late sixties), his occasionally crippling asthma, and his hopes of a career as a Latin teacher. He finds unexpected acceptance teaching at a small Midwestern college, where his Latin class becomes a cult favorite, to the chagrin of the staid local intellectuals. This is a funny book, unique and charming. I wish he'd have written a series. I'd have bought them all.