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a multitude of sins by richard ford

From:     bookie
Category: Books
Date:     23 September 2007
Time:     05:55 AM

Review:

SOmeone should write a history of writers fixated on dick-size. Like Hemingway saying to Fitzgerald 
in the urinal, it's  the perspective that makes it look small. Well who's laughing now Papa, you may 
have got the knobel, but he's got the huge credibility. All Ford's heroes seem to have big dicks 
(perhaps he equates this with an increased propensity to infidelity) and of the women we here little 
about their vaginal capacity, the stories all seem to involve a lot of time in The Drake Hotel, ex-ball 
players, and something about us imagining our real lives, a twist of hardboiled dialogue, a couple of 
martinis, some estate agents, a trip to a hotel off sloane square, and poignant ambiguous sad 
endings. Ah, shut up already, american fiction of the lonesome american soul. 


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