![]() ![]() … t’s not only that my shoulders + back are round, but that my head is thrust forward.” The journals are largely comprised of lists, ways to improve herself, books she should read, chronologies. “I had never realized how bad my posture is,” she writes. The critic takes her own personality on as a subject and dissects, often unflatteringly, her own weaknesses on the highest and most trivial levels. ![]() The imperial voice of Against Interpretation is here aimed at herself. There is a seriousness, an almost preternatural lack of humor, to the entries that is both the amazing power and the curiosity of Sontag’s thought. ![]() Her notes are scattered, aphoristic, sharp. Sontag does not expend the energy on being charming, or even comprehensible, that most people paradoxically do in their private journals. ![]()
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