Friday, March 02, 2012

The Dreariest Art, Or Why I Review Books

"...criticism, the dreariest of the arts."
      - Charles Baxter, The Art of Subtext: Beyond Plot
When I was young and Ivory soap ran in my veins, a thing I swore I'd never do was review. Critics with their clacking teeth, their hairy wrists and glinting wristwatches, their sharp nibs scratching at the very fibers of the page: an altogether scary breed. I imagined them equally zealous whether affixing golden seals of approval or administering literary thrashings thorough enough to shred whole, heavy tomes into masses of paper capellini.

Posted by Leah Hager Cohen

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Hi Leah,

This is your friend Paul P, phew,I would not want to be on the receiving end of your razor sharp critiquing.Thankfully I have a lovely Ice cream with chocolate sprinkles "review" of sorts from a very nice person whom the last time I saw was fiddling for me at half my height.My goodness what a frame on times lovely conundrum that is,,
I head to India March 25th,and as you know, have someone dear who has started to go downhill in a way that only you could particularly understand This of course would change my departure time,However would you like me to keep you in the loop for my adventures if they happen by email of course ?
Hopefully life can manage not to go to this dramatic end for at least the next 2 months,phew? Like Mr Arthur Conan Doyle I am enjoying communicating to you on this public arena with the layers that only you will understand which is pleasing to me as I hope it might be to you.
all the best,
Paul P

11:33 PM

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