Andrew O’Hehir’s review of Sex and the City 2 is, like all the rest of them, a pan. (Undoubtedly well-deserved; the trailer made me want to scream. Not in a good way.) But check out that slightly tortured Ulysses reference at the end of the first paragraph.* Really had to work to shoehorn that one [...]

[Read more →]

It’s a sunny, breezy day in Princeton, New Jersey, and I am sitting at a dining room table built by two of my three housemates (the one in the architecture school, not the one in the English department with me), and the table is covered on books on reading James Joyce, and cups that no [...]

[Read more →]

Dear Harold Bloom, I love you. Let’s get married. But: what about this?, my reader enjoins. And it’s true, Harold Bloom. I think you are a lunatic. I think you are straight-up crazy nuts. Also, you are approximately one million years old, and I am twenty-six. But I do not want to marry you just [...]

[Read more →]