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Apprentice to the Flower Poet Z.: A Novel BY Debra Weinstein Random House, $13.95 What has happened to the art of satire? Debra Weinstein's Apprentice to the Flower Poet Z. isn't simply a waste of paper. Reading it is an expense of spirit in a waste of shame. A feeble spark is struck in the first few pages when a reader might speculate on the real-life models for the flower poet herself. But, really, who cares? Those in the poetry world will quickly make their guesses, and I can't imagine many outside of the East Coast literary culture, or an MFA program, would even pick up the book. This is clearly a novel written for a coterie readership. You'd think an audience of fellow writers would inspire the author—if not the muse of fire, at least the muse of Pope. But it isn't funny. And without the extravagant energies of invective, the furtive, disinherited pleasures of malice, there's nothing to rescue the flat characters or aimless plot. One of the back-jacket blurbs compares the book to a haiku. Because it's short? Because it mentions the word "flower"? Because a fifth grader could write it? Nothing is wasted Buy this book Amazon Barnes and Noble Book Sense |
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