Worst book: Buying Cigarettes for the Dog. I probably won't hear the end of it for selecting Stuart Ross's latest effort as the dog of '09. When my review was published, the Internet was aflutter with Ross fans convinced that my critical skills were lacking. But it's all a question of taste: While some may regard the book a work of genius, it left me yawning and bored.
Was the Internet really "aflutter" with my defenders? I think that's just this reviewer's delusion of grandeur. There wasn't a single readers' comment after the review, and a search of "MJ Stone" and "cigarettes" comes up with nothing but the review itself.
MJ was the reviewer who compared me unfavourably to Ernest Hemingway.
Regardless, it's a new achievement for me!
Over and out.
Funny, I've just been reading in Denis Dutton's _The Art Instinct_ about Hume and Kant's aesthetic theories and how it's a category mistake to conflate "I didn't like this" with "this is bad"--and how, if all you can say about a book is what you personally think about it, then you aren't a critic. She seems to want it both ways. You can't reasonably call something the worst and then say "it's all a matter of taste." Regardless, this is a magnificent achievement, Stu, and you should be busting with pride!
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