Word: novelistically
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...advocated a wardrobe of unbleached woolen garments. A purported avatar of women's liberation who called himself a "philanderer" and preferred married women for romance. A lectern-thumping socialist who prided himself on his aristocratic if fallen lineage and chronicled protest rallies from the sidelines with amused disdain. A novelist whose books were rejected as unpublishable, a pamphleteer who seemed forever to be engaging in self-satire, a political leader who refused to seek office, a ghostwriter whose hand was not only detected but also thought to be female...
...more than 250 indiscreet and entertaining letters. In them a previously hidden critic emerges: "Mr. Truman Capote makes me plumb sick, as does Mr. Tenn. Williams . . . if ((James)) Baldwin were white nobody would stand him a minute." She has nothing but awe for William Faulkner, the only other Southern novelist to be published in the magisterial Library of America series. She belongs in his company...
CRITICS often refer to Ann Tyler as a "domestic" novelist. Her novels generally deal with families, with relationships and with the middle class. But to call Tyler "domestic" is to make her work seem somehow less substantial, less complete. When John Updike writes about what suburban families say to each other, how modern men and women deal with everything from raising children to buying living room furniture, from adultery to taking out the garbage, we do not think that he is merely concerned with chronicling domestic life...
...novelist Philip Roth, who is one of the great chroniclers of what happened to many of those immigrants, observed recently that, by raising the issue of the pledge, Bush "manages to insinuate that there is something that remains unnaturalized in a man called Dukakis, an ineradicable alienness" which makes him something other...
...maintained. For one thing, the author essentially blames this book on a period of physical distress and mental depression that he experienced during the spring of 1987: "In order to recover what I had lost, I had to go back to the moment of origin." To an inveterate novelist, apparently, telling the truth is a manifestation of disorienting illness. More troubling, there is that letter to Zuckerman at the beginning and, at the end of this presumptive exercise in candor, the imaginary Zuckerman's lengthy and negative critique of what he has just read. The facts may be here...