The gloss and sheen of image and brand are at the heart of a boy writer’s success. If he tells himself he is successful, he is successful. If he tells himself he is powerful, he is powerful. If he tells himself he is influential, he is influential. The scene reorients itself to centralize the boy writer, his image, his needs, because as a society we are so accustomed to taking our cues from men. The boy writer smears feces on the page. It is art. He makes a rape joke. It’s ironic. He becomes the gatekeeper of a movement touting itself as alternative, even though he is the furthest thing from counter culture you can possibly imagine. He collects marginalized writers and uses his influence and professional clout as a bargaining chip for their bodies. quaintmagazine/alt-lit-is-dead-burn-the-corpses-salt-the-bodies/
Posted on: Fri, 03 Oct 2014 01:49:44 +0000
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