I should have become a fan earlier.
I’d heard that Tolentino was a brilliant young essayist. And that alone should have drawn me in, as I love the essay form. Yet still I resisted. What overcame my inertia was when I heard her compared with Montaigne. “Aha, a fellow Pyrrhonist!” said I, meaning a particular kind of skeptic, no mere scoffer or cynic, but a person who questions dogmatic statements (including his or her own) without abandoning the quest for truth itself.
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