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Posts Tagged ‘The Millions’

Emily St. John Mandel receives a tepid college try from the New York Times

So a writer, the creme of the byproduct of your civilization, has garnered a prime review at nytimes.com -> here

I cannot begin to moan and wail over such an unexciting ouevre -> here

If you are at all tangentially interfered with by themillions.com then please don’t bother, however if your senses have revolted from the pitter-patter of these tiny imprints I say, go on!

The fate of this volume will be the scourge of the unchosen, those MFA’s left in its wake. If we listen closely we hear a woman who has written a thing and been gladhanded most ungallantly. However the thing is, from the review directly, not exactly worthy of an eternal flame. We read that it starts with a charge and sputters over time. Ostensibly from an idea not a set piece. Cringing I read the words on the screen thinking how much a scandal a review can be that is truly mild. It almost pains ones efforts at life to believe in a peerage of colleagues treated so. How do these people partake in this production and analysis if the end result pardons her? My weary reader, ask not and want not, these are the things that must push my pen to react. How hard must we yearn and yodel for a solid work that plods and plots itself accordingly?  The meta of now is only a puddle, a puddle which seeks no greater body, that dries up and is restored to the heavens only to fall again and again with each week of this publication derelict of a sense of greater acts of creation. For when one has a vocation, we only injure ourselves when we inure against something of better wort.

Transparent

For the lest to see.

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Chapter 1: In which an inveterate misanthropic blogger is ordered to halt his unneeded services.

Lee Siegel I wuv you. Male or Female. Human or Transient, Sentient, OmniCritical Being. You have made my life worth living again.  Just when I was getting depressed about kicking galley proofs and taking names, here, HERE you crop up and alter my melancholic, miasma of coherent blogging. I’m quite thrilled to be of the nameless masses. The man-in-the-street, the decidedly unapologetic, man without authority and bastard of the internets. (Pardon this thunderous, abject tone, one must be forgiven in this day and age of ante-whatever age is coming next nothingness) Lee Siegel I wuv you, for writing this:

http://www.newyorker.com/magazine/bios/lee_siegel/search?contributorName=Lee%20Siegel

The initial thrust of the article is to bury hatchets and then it disintegrates to name dropping and a host of other unpardonable sins. I think Siegel in his new found giddiness of discovering Happy Land or Paxil, has forgetten what most will not say. The largest portion of things being published are bad, unreadable, and therefore a monstrous waste of time. This in turn fuels the negativity of reviewing. Sure, Sure his reasons for the coterie of intellect here and there are entertaining, however a bad book unjustly, modestly and generously judged only harms. More to the point, the reviews aren’t the hatchets, the books they concern are. A prime example, for all of its degrees of facility both academic and peer-reviewed is that wunderkind of a website, the ever bravish, Bostonish, bespectacled, variety internet show http://www.themillions.com   If one is interested in trends of the literary, go there. If not, anywhere but. For there will be found all sorts of gladhanding, kidgloving and other preciosity of the nice sort. My stomach has turnt in the mentioning. But that is all fine fare, unless of course your name is B.R. Myers. Conferment of the authors of that website aside, we turn back to Lee Siegel. I hope against hope that you never write anything again.

Sincerely,

Evan Kerry

 

 

 

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