Halfway

I continue to truly appreciate the weight of the Remnick. His attempts at creating a composite from a dizzying squall of entities in flux are to be commended. Apparently while Martin Amis could only spend an hour on Roibert Conquest, he could at lease loot Remnick for an anecdote about a pavillion of poorly made goods circa 1986. Remnick also has issues with Yevtuschenko, many do, but I find it interesting that he cites Y's instant creation of poem commemorating Sakharov (in both Russian and English) for immediate dissemnation in the West as bad taste, whereas I listened to Remnick reel off his own litany of anecdotes about Boris Yeltsin two weeks ago today.
Leaning into the second half of the text, I maintain no plans for what's next. I did read 40 more pages of the Thomas Kelly before shuffling into slumber. I read Joe Queenan's essay on bad literature yesterday (and then had Joel mail it to me today) and I can't empathize. My standards make me surly when violated and the Kelly is borderline.