“His whole world had become populated and dominated by metaphors of rejection and reconciliation; he could not eat a cream puff without considering how it was filled to bursting with cream the way he was filled to bursting with love for her. Meta-pastries like these were obvious, and even pathetic, and generated by the worst part of him, not the best.”
Occasionally, you come across something where you know you’re going to be wrong; where the critical consensus will be so overwhelmingly opposite of your opinion that you have to chalk the difference up to taste. I had that feeling all through The Great Night, which is often very well-written (to the point of being overwritten, leaving an aftertaste of mannered) and really pretty good at pushing buttons (because who am I to say something unkind about a pediatric oncologist’s portrayal of pediatric oncology), but because of all of that or even on top of it — so very emo, so very very twee.
May 09, 2011, 6:19am Comments