Into the Woods of Criticism

James Wood anatomizes the final volume of the Oxford English Literary History. His comments have the ring of truth. I have read such "anatomies" of literary history and they do tend to be sparing of actual criticism. But there is a reason for this: they are scholarship, not criticism. The purpose of such works is basically to give an overview. Of course, it's thin on actual texts.

Wood has made a mistake about genre, but we know exactly why: in order to confirm his and the reader's prejudice that academics do not read or say interesting things about literature. A masterly rhetorician can tear apart a mediocrely written potted history of literature, but it proves little except that Wood likes his prefers his targets lumbering. I say he should read academics as agile and mind-bending as Jonathan Arac or Rachel Blau Duplessis if he wants criticism. Otherwise, he is just shooting fish in a barrel. (And it's disquieting that this appears in the London Review of Books, rather than the New Republic where such snark is obligatory.)

Father's Day
Nicholas Lemann on Tim Russert's Dad. I have recently gotten in the habit of watching the political food fights and finding Russert to be one of the more substantial (naturally because he quotes politicians words back at them). This deconstruction demonstrates there is no free lunch with them. Anyway, the McLaughlin Group strangely is still best of the breed, although he continues to have more neo-cons and cons than libs or rads.