I read two articles on Jonathan Franzen at lunch today: one penned by a Financial Times writer who interviewed him over a self-consciously mid-range English lunch, the other written by an inmate in a federal prison headlined: Stop Sending me Jonathan Franzen Novels.
One pseudo-fawning, the other an impatiently brutal takedown, both ultimately an indictment of an over-privileged and hugely successful white dude who can't quite admit he was born on third base.
In any case, I enjoyed the dismantling. I re-read The Corrections earlier this year and found the tone so sneering and tone-deaf and cliche'd, I wondered how I'd enjoyed so much the first time.
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