A Deliciously Naughty Tirade (in Lieu of Sunday School)

The friend who sent me this quote (from a review of Donna Leon’s My Venice and Other Essays) wryly introduced it thus, “It raises an Oedipal question as to whether self-knowledge is too painful to live with . . . Enjoy (or resent, your call).”

Evincing no regret for leaving the United States years ago, she notes her growing alienation during every trip back. “Americans are fat, but fat in a way that is peculiar to them,” she argues, “as though a race of hermaphrodites had been squeezed out of a pastry bag and badly smoothed into shape with a giant spatula, then stuffed into low-crotched jeans and tent-sized T-shirts before being given bad haircuts and sent on their way.”

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