March 05, 2009


I just finished Tony Hoagland's What Narcissism Means To Me which just made me hungry for more/other, so much so I might consider driving to the library once I can bother getting out of these house jammies. He's kind of a prick and doesn't write about trees more than is necessary. His irony dates him a little--this collection in 2003 and pre-; (we have traded the ironic age for something reluctantly sober and somber and just-woken-up delirious. Maybe not traded, that's a little too willful.) His fear-of-rap also dates him. But I like that he's a little flagrant and angry about what he doesn't understand--putting one's old-assholeishness on display isn't a cheap effect when it isn't done for cheap effect.

Posted by jessica hopper at March 5, 2009 12:51 PM | TrackBack