A review by scribblerrva
Poisoned Pens: Literary Invective from Amis to Zola by Gary Dexter

2.0

I’m going to do it. I am going to sound like every writer in this book and unapologetically so. This was the single worst book I have ever read in my life. This book has to be the most boring book I have ever voluntarily read cover to cover in my spare time. The only reason that I am giving it two stars instead of one is because of the fact that it taught me two things about myself...well...it taught me one thing and then reinforced something else within me. First, it validated my belief that literary criticism sucks as a whole. There is a reason why, whenever I read any classic novel, I skip the prefaces and introductions by such-and-such academics: because everything they write is pretentious, overtly verbose, and often allude to authors that they presume the reader already knows and has already read, providing no context as to why those authors’ words should mean anything to me. Secondly, this book taught me, merely through the arduous experience of reading it, that I can read ANYTHING now. Every book I ever quit in the middle of reading because it was too boring? Oh, I can most ASSUREDLY conquer now after this piece of trash. “Pride and Prejudice”? This book cured me of my disdain for Jane Austen. “I Am Charlotte Simmons” by Tom Wolfe...I could make my way to the end of that now. The Lord of the Rings series...yup...I absolutely can make my way through that, the Hobbit AND The Simarillion. War and Peace?!?!? Yep...even that. And I attempted that book TWICE. So, if there was ANY bright spot for me from reading “Poisoned Pens”, it was that there is now NO book that I can’t make my way through. Because there is absolutely NO book that could POSSIBLY shrivel my soul up in boredom the way this book did. It was THAT remarkably terrible a reading experience. And I refused to quit it...I wasn’t going to give the author OR this book the satisfaction. Pops ain’t raise no punk and Momma ain’t raise no quitter. If I was going to trash it on Goodreads, like I have been dying to do for nearly a month now, I had to earn the right to do so. And the only way I was gonna earn that right was by reading it all the way through. So here we are. PS: Ernest Hemingway sucked. He was the dirt worst and anyone who idolizes him or reveres him or his work needs to re-evaluate themselves. Dude was trash. Okay...I’m done.