Lia Purpura's Nose for Decay

It can be argued that the internal narrator—that voice whose narration of sensation and thought tells us the story of who we are—is what separates us from other animals; it can also be argued that close attention to this narrator, coupled with a desire to recreate its slippery machinations on the page, is what separates the essay from other literary genres.  I am speaking here of what has been called the familiar, occasional, or personal essay, as opposed to the academic, polemical, or persuasive essay, and although many writers work in this vein, few work with such attention to the elusive moods and curious habits of the internal narrator as Lia Purpura. Her essays (as many of the best essays do) reflect a singular and curious mind at work on the page: