Campbell Andrews > Recent Status Updates

it’s not really fiction now — more a treatise

“Hadewich of Brabant”???! who the F is that? the author is up his own ass

still embarrassing. he’s made his beloved characters unrelatable

the nirvana he’s arrived at is deadly boring, and increasingly embarrassing. I want to hide under a blanket

and here the earnestness finally becomes embarrassing… I think because without frailty and brokenness it’s unbalanced. the triumphant connections get monotonous.

he can invoke mystic shit but he can’t bring himself to attribute it to God

this book at its best is a reclamation of forbearance and a chastisement of greed

all his characters’ epiphanies arrive on time and in the same voice

happy birthday, Risa!

parts in search of a whole

not red-letter but gray. this is your Jesus for us, Me. Duncan?

is this ultimately another shaggy-dog story

faltering now, not for lack of interest but for lack of structure — of which the (unseen) narrator’s increasing assertions are a confirmation

“Is there a way of being beyond gender?” is not the mindfuck that Mr. Duncan portrays it as. Only those terminally mired in the rigidity of sex roles could regard it as such

I fear here’s the point at which it goes off the rails