I recently found myself in a spirited public disagreement with a famous literary critic. Onstage at the front of the theater, two critics sat, armchairs angled toward each other and the audience. The philosopher and public figure Agnes Callard was joined by literary critic Merve Emre (who writes for The New Yorker and is a professor of creative writing and criticism at Wesleyan University) for a University of Chicago “Night Owls” event. Emre stared me down, her legs crossed in furry, tall boots, and I tried not to shake in mine.
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