‘If you’re going to name a book after units of time, you’d better have something to say on the subject, and in ”A Day, a Night, Another Day, Summer,” Christine Schutt certainly does. Whether or not readers will find her voice comforting is another matter.’
So begins David Kirby’s NYT review (Reg Req’d) of Schutt’s new collection of stories. LitBlog Beatrice rightly noted that NYT completely missed Schutt’s work until her novel Florida was nominated for the National Book Award.
One further remark. Maybe it’s just because I’ve been reading a lot of Faulkner recently to try to keep up with the Oprah Book Club, but I have to ask…Since when is literature supposed to be comforting? Mr. Kirby, meet The Idiot.