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COPYRIGHT 2005 South Florida Sun-Sentinal
Byline: Chauncey Mabe
``No Country for Old Men'' by Cormac McCarthy; Knopf ($24.95)
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When novelist and critic Dale Peck called fellow novelist Rick Moody "the worst writer of his generation" in 2003, most people in the book biz, however privately entertained they may have been, pronounced themselves appalled. To be sure, Peck's remark was intended to draw more attention to the reviewer than the reviewed; it succeeded.
What's more, bushwhackery, overstatement and broad-stroke condemnation are not sound critical tools. Book reviewing calls for fine work; just as you can't do brain surgery with a cudgel, it's plainly unfair to reduce a serious writer _ or even a genre hack, for that matter _ to a dismissive catch phrase.
Niceties aside, however, my reaction upon first hearing about the contretemps was: How does Peck choose just one? In an era in which fiction writers are given extra credit by critics for exhibiting talent and chutzpah, while conversely all too often being excused from the responsibility of writing a novel that's actually worth a reader's time, the woods are foul with scribblers whose bloated reputations overshadow their achievements. Take, for example, Cormac McCarthy.
Even critics sometimes fall short of perfection _...
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