In Claire Messud’s literary universe, as in her eclectic and moveable life, the things most worth reflecting on come in layers that simultaneously connect the mundane, the exotic and the humbly memorable.

Even the title of this richly drawn anthology of more than two dozen essays, KANT’S LITTLE PRUSSIAN HEAD AND OTHER REASONS WHY I WRITE, speaks to the dry wit and arresting spontaneity that permeate her very personal reflections on life, great authors of the past and present, and art in various forms. Although at the peak of her creative power, Messud also seems to be casting an experienced retrospective eye over several decades of critically acclaimed writing.

Drawn from Thomas Bernhard’s novel, THE LOSER, the opening title phrase is recalled by Bernhard’s fictitious narrator as something that the eccentric genius, Canadian pianist Glenn Gould, might have said (but probably didn’t). And in a context that opens with her multitasking career woman’s sense of vertigo at having watched an unnamed television science documentary about the vastness of the universe, the reader can take various meanings from the wry diminution of a philosophical giant.

But in essence, greatness of all kinds can come in a surprising array of sizes and levels of appreciation, and that already elevates Messud’s attention-grabbing title into a less affected and more human dimension.

"Every page exudes [Messud's] quiet yet compelling joy in the power of well-nourished language, a vast vocabulary treated with the awe and reverence that a great painter treats the endless potentialities of color or a composer the myriad combinations of notes in a score."

The same could be said for her concentrated and vibrant prose throughout KANT’S LITTLE PRUSSIAN HEAD. Every page exudes her quiet yet compelling joy in the power of well-nourished language, a vast vocabulary treated with the awe and reverence that a great painter treats the endless potentialities of color or a composer the myriad combinations of notes in a score. Where arrogance will throw words, colors or sounds onto the page in clever combinations, mindful greatness will patiently blend and mold them into uniquely memorable sensory and emotional experiences.

Messud could easily and successfully have collected or composed all of her essays in the autobiographical vein but stretches the promise of the book’s subtitle by dividing her anthology into three unequal parts. Whether or not they should have been three separate books is difficult to decide, as they all express aspects of her own character as well as that of the individuals enlarged by her acute observations.

“Reflections” (Part One) contains nearly a dozen essays spanning a non-chronological array of personal memories and reflections about her multinational upbringing, a close and unusual family, and cultural experiences and events that influenced both her parental and professional life.

“Criticism: Books” (Part Two) includes a trio of outstanding reflections on the iconic French Algerian author Albert Camus, followed by insightful and deeply relevant reviews of a group of authors too many of us have heard of and too few have read (to our loss) --- among them, Kazuo Ishiguro, Italo Svevo, Rachel Cusk, Saul Friedlander and Valeria Luiselli.

Finally, “Criticism: Images” (Part Three), is devoted to writer-photographer Sally Mann and painters Alice Neel and Darlene Dumas. Here, one can fervently wish that Messud had selected a few more deserving female artists, in any medium. None of these thoughtful but diligent essays reads like an add-on, but after just three, there is a hunger for more of her same-yet-different appraisals of gifted talents who have made a significant difference in how we perceive the world.

By far the most emotionally captivating segments of KANT’S LITTLE PRUSSIAN HEAD are Messud’s skillfully selected, one might almost say, curated reminiscences of growing up and maturing in Australia, Canada, the United States and Britain; retracing her French-Algerian father’s fragmented history back to Beirut; and unraveling convoluted family ties that included her Canadian mother’s suppressed intellectual aspirations and her father’s self-destructive sister whose needs intruded on the marriage.

Once Messud and her British husband became parents themselves, they raised their children in a much less volatile environment, which often gives her pause to reflect on how memories shape our personal and collective histories, as well as helping us to create a more meaningful present.

In that vein, one of Messud’s most memorable pieces of writing in KANT’S LITTLE PRUSSIAN HEAD is, somewhat ironically, her Introduction. The book went to press just as the first wave of COVID-19 was officially declared a pandemic by the UN World Health Organization.

The vast impact of the virus was as yet unknown, and the ferocious run-up to a historic presidential election earlier this month was just beginning to expose widening divisions across all of America as the rest of the world waited with bated breath for the outcome. In a few short but powerful pages, Messud brilliantly captures the hopes, fears, challenges and changes we faced then and continue to face now.

She also reinforces for everyone the importance of making and experiencing art. Now, more than ever, we need to set aside our screens and connect with meaning through the printed word.