Gee, Lucy Ellmann, tell us how you really feel.
Chuck Palahniuk’s new novel Snuff might be as awful as she says. I’m not terrifically interested in it. I’ve only ever read his Lullaby, which I found interesting but overly fond of the info-dump as a stylistic device. (Tasha Robinson wrote in her review that Palahniuk had “started to write in paragraphs instead of catchphrases,” which makes me very nervous about tackling any of his earlier books.)
But it’s the wholesale dismissal of American culture and heavy-handed approach that bugs me most about Ellmann’s review. She starts with:
So not only has America tried to ruin the rest of the world with its wars, its financial meltdown and its stupid stupid food, it has allowed its own literary culture to implode. Jazz and patchwork quilts are still doing O.K., but books have descended into kitsch. I blame capitalism, Puritanism, philistinism, television and the computer.
Oh, and you kids? Get off her lawn!
She’s much more interested, it seems, in the subject matter of the novel — and what it supposedly has to say about the depravity and lack of depth of American popular culture — than in what the book itself has to say, and how well or poorly it says it. As I said, I’m not here to defend Palahniuk from criticism; I’m just wishing that’s what Ellmann’s article was.
Oh, and seriously, those puns — “running gag/gag and run” and “Palahniuk chucks” — reek of too clever by half, if you ask me.