So far the reviews are not glowing. Terry Teachout's review in the WSJ actually takes light in, rather than releasing it: "Yet I found it hard to shake off the disquieting sensation that Ms. Didion, for all the obvious sincerity of her grief, was nonetheless functioning partly as a grieving widow and partly as a celebrity journalist who had chosen to treat the death of John Gregory Dunne as yet another piece of grist for her literary mill."
I can pinpoint the exact moment I gave up on NY Times reviews forever. This is from David Kamp's painful review of Norah Vincent's book about dressing up and going around as a dude:
"Conspicuously absent from 'Self-Made Man,' though, are men leading full, contented lives. Perhaps this is a function of the limitations of Vincent's experiment - after all, a 'man' created out of thin air and stoppelpaste can't very well insinuate himself into an elegant country club or a loving nuclear family."
What the heck is "stoppelpaste"? It was neither in my Webster's or OED.
Is it the same as chalk?
Ms. Wagner, your venom is caused by your invidiousness that you lack Mr. Brantley's slight social acquaintance with Ms. Didion.
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