This artistic type of male, of which I likely am one, rather than deal with the horrid world, prefer instead to romanticize pain and depression. Making wallowing in it somehow representative of great art. In turn, it’s a simple jump to create characters we imagine to be realistic, because we likely haven’t actually talked to a stranger in a decade. So, the masochistic nature takes great pleasure in having a so-called badass who is a completely depressed alcoholic asshole being the hero/anti-hero of whatever story we create. Thus, we think we’re making a scathing remark upon society as a whole, and quite likely, critics only go into that profession because they love work such as I described in a rampantly useless generalization.

So yes, the patriarchal modern fiction might be completely useless to the betterment of humanity, but then again, it’s quite likely that you could say the same of me.

All I know is that I’m soooooooooo sick of how all contemporary literature (esp. by men) seems to have rape and/or incest. Please. No more.

jdregent, I found Notes on a Scandal interesting but not amazing.

I didn’t actually mind Catcher in the Rye, I think the book itself is fine, I just don’t like the hagiography surrounding the character as I don’t believe it’s what Salinger intended.