oh david sexton, one day we will meet and you can tell me ALL about it. no one can be this BITTER, this JOYLESS, this DEFEATIST and ELITIST - i hope. i pick up your newspaper with a wry smile every monday, knowing that once the rest of the news is through and laura craik's had her say on what to wear this week, i still have you to look forward to. monday 14th june west end final page 69. your look says 'yes, you would think so, wouldn't you', not scowling or serious, you sigh across the arts. a sigh that wheezes, 'this is as good as it gets, readers.' although you would never address your readers so directly. i mean, you probably find this terribly crass, don't you?
your best piece last year (ever) was on jessica, the original and prolific bookslut. why? because by covering the literary blogger you hinted that publishing has a future. that books have a place in this world beyond amazon. this singular interview; enthusiastic, optimistic and inspiring (YES, YES you can be ALL THESE THINGS david), won me over (hear my cliches, how you disapprove!).
for me, the future of literary journalism, if there is to be one, must be manifested in a progression beyond the traditional review/interview format. in today's paper a boxed review of Nick Hornby's The Polysyllabic Spree is highlighted on the front page of the arts section. fine. i think. Hornby - native londoner, already overexposed and growing complacent, as his last bloated work demonstrated, but ok, i see what you've done here. the paperback is published by an imprint of the ambitious and earnest young new york journal the believer, edited by vendela vida. how did you describe it, david? '... a division of McSweeney's, the publishing enterprise that believes if you can't say anything nice about books, say nothing at all.' i know you only reviewed Hornby to get this 'dig' in. McSweeney's/McSmug - whatever.
the book world is small. small enough for our paths to cross sooner or later. until next week.