File Under, Wrongheaded
So, Slate’s book coverage has pretty much been dead to me since the inept savagery of Karen Joy Fowler’s The Jane Austen Book Club. If that hadn’t done it, I’m sure this would have.
Now comes the proud proclamation that Octavian Nothing actually sucks–really, we’ve all just been snowed. We like a good sermon, apparently. (Although she gets points for referencing Matt’s review.)
Or maybe such reactionary book coverage isn’t worth the pixels it’s printed in.
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