What was poor, if this text was so great? In subject, a poor matter keeps the writer grasping and failing to cope and story suffers for imperfectly expressed areas of subject, or subject unworthy of the novelist's eye, but could the lull be tactical, spurring the critic's instinct to reject, to invite a wise reader to fall quickly in judgement? A lull, the poor writing left by a good editor, had been the critic's endured experience with the 'bad' and being whom he was if the novelist broke his cardinal gift, the choice of subject, with anachronism or uninvited guests, and the young editor let all slip by, the book flew to a certain wall above a desk in the critic's seventh floor study next a window looking to the morning sun over the lake. The critic expressed many disgusts by steady-handed disproval, ignoring and throwing unworthy texts with moral resolve, and encouraged only fully realized and controlled texts their worth in a reader's hand, however poorly executed and with poorness exposed. But had he judged too soon with this text, had the the writer's strategy won the critic out with silent, or meaningfully placed flaws? So he guesses until the book's end, and with a book on the pile below the window to the lake, or in a mid-life fire in the fireplace, the critic sat burdened until his fellow critics proved him right. But this book had won out.
Breathless, what had left him this way? That he raced after, still in the locked moment and in successive purgatorious conjecture, a means to his stationary breathlessness proves he encountered a text unlike all before. It must be a flawed, acceptably so, text--a text with flaws large enough and in the bounds of his critical eye to become beautiful and in their imperfect way impress upon the imperfect eye.
Conor Robin Madigan