What fun.Poking at people who need to be poked. But, What
about Renata Adler ? (see Pauline Kale?

Bookforum recently profiled Adler's fiction and I came across this book about her time at the New Yorker. The kindest way to describe this book is gossipy. I don't think I've ever read a more mean-spirited book. Adler's charmed life of extreme privilege combined with her talent and high intellect = scary self-certainty and a total lack of self-awareness. ( )

Totally not what I was looking for. I do not know what possessed me to order this from the library. I am hurrying it back to them tomorrow. And none too soon. I suppose I will never know now what makes Renata Alder the type and quality of writer she has a reputation for being. She is certainly not my cup of tea. ( )

What could be a spoiler? This book isn't very good at all. It is totally self-focused. I, I, I, me, me, me.... Everybody else is bad, she is good. And it was boring. Who cares, at this level of detail? Who in the world cares? And mean, mean, mean.
The end.