January 20, 2009


Ritchey nails it again!: "I'm sort of like "This again?" Don't you sometimes feel like there's a huge period of American literature that exists solely for the purpose of displaying a bunch of despairing, alcoholic Southerners doing quietly horrible things to their spouses, the action interrupted almost constantly by long, internal monologues about lost youth, the absence of God, and the lack of meaning in life? And then some morbidly-beloved secondary character dies."

Posted by jessica hopper at January 20, 2009 12:25 PM | TrackBack