Perhaps it's true that we live in a time when rudeness rules, but this
book, which the author loudly proclaims to be a modern Dunciad, lacks
the three necessary ingredients that make satire effective: wit,
insight, and craft. The problem begins with the form that Johnson
chooses for his sallies: the epigram. Johnson is clearly beyond his
depth here and the limits of his command of the English language,
including vocabulary and the rudiments of grammar are immediately
apparent. To write a successful epigram is to craft a verbal artifact
that exhibits crisp intelligence in the handling of language, and
carries a "sting." Rhyme, and in particular the rhyming couplet is
the poet's form of choice for this. Satirical, free-verse, epigrams
are difficult to pull off for the best of writers, and we're clearly
not in that territory here. Johnson's "epigrams" are wordy,
amorphous in form (a definite no-no!) groping in diction and sometimes
even lose their way before they end, leaving us to wonder what exactly
was the point besides an obvious attempt to bait, belittle, or strike a
posture. Yes, he waxes warm and cozy when he addresses some of his
subjects--primarily experimental poets that figured prominently on the
Buffalo Poetics List c. 1999--2000, but for others he withholds the
puffs and brings out his brickbats of choice. Distressingly, many of
his subjects for "satire" are women and minorities, and with them
Johnson "transcends" the limits of his craft in two ways: a liberal
use of scatological language, and direct unadulterated rudeness--and
even, in one case a threat of physical violence. He attacks many
well-respected writers in this manner. However, showing far more
cleverness in the pagination of this tome than in the writing of it,
Johnson buries such specimens of pathology in the last quarter of the
total pages. What puzzles me is that this book does appear to have its
fans, but then again so does pit bull and cock fighting.
I also believe that anyone who tries to turn a buck selling stuff that
hurts feelings in the baldest and stupidest manner and makes no
apologies for it is just as deserving of contempt as the writer.
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