Words of Wisdom

I grokked Lucy Ellmann's review of Chuck Palahniuk's new novel:

"What the hell is going on? The country that produced Melville, Twain and James now venerates King, Crichton, Grisham, Sebold and Palahniuk. Their subjects? Porn, crime, pop culture and an endless parade of out-of-body experiences. Their methods? Cliché, caricature and proto-Christian morality. Props? Corn chips, corpses, crucifixes. The agenda? Deceit: a dishonest throwing of the reader to the wolves. And the result? Readymade Hollywood scripts."

Well said, although, as she knows, Melville and James, at least, were not much "venerated" in their day. Still, the sentiment creates sympathetic vibrations chez moi.

I'm Back

I don't expect anyone missed me. However, while I was on vacation, I noticed this, from a book review in the Times. (I'm sure I'm not the only one to have blogged about it, either.)

"Fathers in America used to have sons. Now they have mini-me’s. Pop and his offspring head out to the mall dressed in the same outfits: baggy shorts, sneakers, athletic socks and T-shirt, topped by a baseball cap. At home they watch Cartoon Network, play video games and eat lots of breakfast cereal. One is older and bigger, the other smaller and younger, but their tastes overlap to a remarkable degree. Today’s child truly is father to the man."

I only mention this because I read these words at the breakfast table, where I was finishing my third bowl of Froot Loops and wearing my SpongeBob pajama pants. (True.) According to the author of the book under review, I am thereby destroying Western Civilization. Readers of these pages, judge for yourselves!

The Death of the Grown-Up - Diana West - Book - Review - New York Times