Twilight of the Superheroes
As Portico, the Web site at which everything of value at the Daily Blague will, in theory, end up, gets bigger and bigger, and older and older as well, I find that I'm depending on it as a sort of external memory. All writing serves that purpose, but it's much easier to retrieve information in hypertext.
That's my only justification for publishing an unfavorable response to Twilight of the Superheroes, by Deborah Eisenberg. I seem to recall reading a story somewhere in which a man and a woman were up on a Manhattan rooftop. Did somebody jump? Or just think about it. I decided that I didn't like Ms Eisenberg's outlook. But I let myself be swayed by the flood of positive comment about the new collection. If I'd written something down at the time, then I'd have known why not to buy the book. My brief remarks will also suggest to you the limits of my aesthetic competence, my ability to enjoy.
