A confessional passage probably never has been blogged that didn’t stink a little bit of Dewey’s pride in having given up his pride. He’s the little Champagne socialist boy who points to the feces he’s deposited in the corner for the maid to clean up. Surely you were aware going in that at least since “Paradise Lost,” the Devil always has gotten the best lines.
You compare this blog to bad spy novels in which Dewey’s sympathies are clear from the outset, in which only the most obvious schemes and motives are explored, the sort of novel where you can work out whodunit in the first 20 pages. To put it another way, you never have been able to imagine his blog or any blog, for that matter, that is exempt from a certain vulgarity.”