![]() I know, from a photo of the book, that it is small and blue. I know, for instance, that Bayard, a respected literature professor, admits in the preface that he doesn’t enjoy reading, has little time for it, and lectures frequently on books he hasn’t read-scandalous revelations that helped make the book a sensation in Europe. But I’m telling you it’s really happening to me, and I’m unhappy about it.įortunately, the book’s absence from my life hasn’t prevented me, as a citizen of the United States of Amazonikipedia, from learning everything there is to know about it. I imagine that every other reviewer in America is, at this very moment, chortling into his tweed collar while pretending to do the same thing. Owing to laziness, busyness, and a bogus holiday that shut down all the city’s mailrooms at the worst possible moment, I have been forced, very much against my will, into the most blindingly obvious irony I’ve ever been obliged to arch my inner eyebrows at: I have to start writing my review of Pierre Bayard’s How to Talk About Books You Haven’t Read without actually having read the book. ![]() When someone asks me for directions to the local school for the deaf, I don’t automatically pretend I can’t hear the question. ![]() I usually prefer to be selective with my ironies-I like to parcel them out tastefully, subtly, unpredictably, like a playful summer rain lightly nurturing the wildflowers of early June. ![]()
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