(A commenter on a Guardian excerpt from the book called it a frippery. She read the frippiest part of the book. I would not call even that a frippery, but I believe more in books as life's bread...)
I spent a fair amount of free time over the last year searching out essays and interviews by Roxane Gay, after stumbling on an essay and her tumblr. Now there's a collection, and it's funny, biting, deep, and oh so jaded that it's fresh again. She really is a pleasure to read, and not a guilty one, despite the "bad feminist" schtick. We know what she's getting at with that, and she's right to strike that pose in this cultural moment. It is demanded of a thinker.
I've been doing too much dog training to read the title as I should, but: Bad Feminist. Worth checking out. I may say more layer on it, but I have trouble getting around to virtual socializing these days.
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