For a seminar that I am teaching tomorrow, I have been rereading Cynthia Ozickâ??s 1970 essay â??Toward a New Yiddish,â? reprinted in her collection Art and Ardor.
In passing, she makes a claim that took me aback, because I had never before realized its truth. The 19th-century novel (â??essentially the novelâ?) was described by critics of the time as â??exhaustedâ? or â??played out.â? The French nouveau roman made its way to these shores, â??involving not only parody, but game, play, and rite. The novel is now,â? Ozick observed, â??said to be â??about itself,â?? a ceremony of language.â?
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