Does the world really need another book about writers eking out a living at the beginning of their careers, another portrait of artists as young men? The age-old, slightly disingenuous adage to write what you know often appears to have convinced a generation of young writers—often with little other experience—to write books about, well, young writers.
While many of the resultant volumes have reflected the contents of their authors’ navels, others, like Adelle Waldman’s excellent The Love Affairs of Nathaniel P., have managed to transcend the hermetic self-absorption of their setting by using it as little more that: a setting, in which far more interesting ideas might be probed.
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