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April 25, 2016
The last contemporary fiction I had any interest in is Auntie Mame, and I’m not kidding.
The fiction writers are off in another world. They don’t see the world as it exists now. They don’t use the language of the contemporary world. Their English is utterly stale and cloistered. I cannot read a page of contemporary fiction, I’m sorry. A Conversation with Camille Paglia
Posted by gerardvanderleun at April 25, 2016 11:29 AM. This is an entry on the sideblog of American Digest: Check it out.
Your Say
I likes me some Crichton every now and then.
Lately it's been *Airframe* and all the sordid details you know that lurk just below the surface. A plane isn't always just a plane, especially if it's a wide body.
Posted by: ghostsniper ![[TypeKey Profile Page]](http://americandigest.org/sidelines/nav-commenters.gif)
at April 25, 2016 1:04 PM
Who needs novels these days? Just read one of the "papers of record" and the Mail and Guardian. Between them, they have it all.
Posted by: BillH at April 26, 2016 6:35 AM
Everybody gets old. Even Paglia.
Posted by: pbird at April 26, 2016 10:02 AM