Chapter 3, in its entirety, is a study in beautiful language. I dug the motorcycle parts. I didn't dig the art parts. I dig her obvious love of language. I didn't dig her obvious overuse of language.
This is another "flawed genius" book. It's worth the pretense and, let's be honest, I think it's impossible for any artist not to be ostentatious as part of the process of creation. Two of William Blake's proverbs of hell come to mind: "You never know what is enough unless you know what is more than enough, " and "Prudence is a rich ugly old maid courted by Incapacity."
Albeit the pretentiousness, Kushner is a tremendous talent whom I hope can replicate what amount of language is "just enough" more often.
