Mostly ossified, with a few moments of excellence
There are not many rare, surprising or sophisticated essays in this collection. Most bore with their sclerotic whingeing. I enjoyed Slavitt, Kalfus, the writer who critiques Freudian etiology, perhaps one or two others. Simon, Lopate, and Epstein are, as usual, tedious and inflexible. Also, the preponderance of the opening quotes detailing our decline and fall were culled from the New York media complex (Times, WSJ, The New Yorker and on and on) as though nothing of interest and nobody of perspicacity could possibly exist "out there". This is New York provincialism at its most loathsome. This is primarily a roster of soreheads and reactionaries rehearsing thier solipsism. Pardon me if I cease to lend an ear.