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Theoryland - Bruce Deitrick Price - Bog

- A Tragedy In Five Cantos

Bag om Theoryland

Theoryland is an epic poem satirizing the pretentious sorts of academic literary criticism called "Theory." This long, ingenious, often witty poem incorporates motifs from T. S. Eliot's "Wasteland" and "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock," but the final confection is lively and contemporary. Price's voice is his own, gliding from highbrow allusion to near-rap to Hollywood phantasmagoria. Theoryland is funny, sad, and one-of-a-kind. Theoryland tells the story of a young professor who wants to be a big-time player in the land of Theory. Theoryland is arguably the best long poem published this year. ------------------------------------------------------ In the rooms the critics come and sneer: my intertext is all veneer. I may have sinned, my closure fated, Who knew this jargon was two months dated? I can hear the co-eds cringing, each to each, I'm scuttling claws, sunk out of reach....

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  • Sprog:
  • Engelsk
  • ISBN:
  • 9781441489869
  • Indbinding:
  • Paperback
  • Sideantal:
  • 30
  • Udgivet:
  • 23. marts 2009
  • Størrelse:
  • 152x229x2 mm.
  • Vægt:
  • 68 g.
  • BLACK NOVEMBER
Leveringstid: 2-3 uger
Forventet levering: 3. december 2024

Beskrivelse af Theoryland

Theoryland is an epic poem satirizing the pretentious sorts of academic literary criticism called "Theory." This long, ingenious, often witty poem incorporates motifs from T. S. Eliot's "Wasteland" and "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock," but the final confection is lively and contemporary. Price's voice is his own, gliding from highbrow allusion to near-rap to Hollywood phantasmagoria. Theoryland is funny, sad, and one-of-a-kind. Theoryland tells the story of a young professor who wants to be a big-time player in the land of Theory. Theoryland is arguably the best long poem published this year. ------------------------------------------------------ In the rooms the critics come and sneer: my intertext is all veneer. I may have sinned, my closure fated, Who knew this jargon was two months dated? I can hear the co-eds cringing, each to each, I'm scuttling claws, sunk out of reach....

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