Eet eseems to me that many of the comments here, positive and negative, are a crying out for help for their authors, especially the people who have written them who are in the profession of which I have said and still believe I am the last practitioner of any significance. I.e., the last Freudian. Those of you have loved the book: Do you know how bad it is in reality, in comparison to the great works? Would you hadd a sixth and seventh star and had infinitum for, let us say. "Great Expectations" or, perhaps more appropriately, "Don Quixote"? Those of you who did not like the book: Do you know how good it is in a comparison to the trash that is churn-ed out by the hacks with their bulging book contracts and their silly explosions and vampires and esexual vicarious humpings? I suggest that we all, myself--Dr. Ernesto Morales--included, get back to what Mr. William Nelson and Mr. Waylong Jennings metaphorically refer to as Luckenback Texas. --As channeled by Daniel Menaker, hauthor of the up-and-coming memoir "My Mistake," in my opinion as aptly named a book as ever has been the case.
--As channeled by Daniel Menaker, hauthor of the up-and-coming memoir "My Mistake," in my opinion as aptly named a book as ever has been the case.