My partner and I were walking through one of those nature preserves a little while ago. The weather had just changed in Louisiana and there was only about a month until the place became wet and oppressive. It had been a lovely day until we got into a fight about the naturalness of this nature. My basic thrust was that this thing – albeit beautiful with its dense marsh transitioning to swamp – was wholly unnatural and that we were fooling ourselves if we thought that this was nature – the cement walkway, the trail cut back by teens in Affliction t-shirts… I felt we were somehow corrupting this, when, perhaps, it was only me who was corrupted/corrupting.
"Boris lives in a world that mirrors reality. It is not real, you see, because of the words, which Yankelevich’s Author realizes might be the most frightening aspect of his position as creator living through his creation. This philosophical trajectory carries the book and provides the more important reason that it should be praised: it unabashedly recognizes the artifice of art but refuses to succumb to the fear of its lack of utility."