If you’ve read and enjoyed Chabon’s novels, you’ll undoubtedly enjoy this. But, that’s a small price to pay to witness the dazzling interplay of his words as he synthesizes so many aspects of literature and pop culture, from Sherlock Holmes to comic books to noir to, yes, golems, golems, golems (which I’m pretty sure is the name of the discount store at which you can purchase all of your golem-making supplies). There’s a downside to reading Chabon if you harbor any aspirations toward storytelling yourself, as you realize that you’ll never even come close to approximating the skill and confidence with which Chabon writes, even when he’s writing about his own insecurity as a writer. In this collection of essays that explore the interplay between genre fiction, flights of fancy, and literature, I’m happy to report that the topics are almost universally enjoyable (though, man, does that guy like to prattle on about golems). While I’m sure there is an immeasurable amount of effort and diligence behind it, his prose flows effortlessly across the page, and everything he writes is linguistic treasure, whether you enjoy the story/topic or not. Michael Chabon is to writing what I am to making Kraft Macaroni & Cheese (okay, that’s a little bit of an exaggeration-Chabon isn’t THAT good of a writer).
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