Marilynne Robinson is considered to be one our finest living novelists. I'm not trying to make this a back-handed compliment, but I think she is a better essayist. Her new book is a look at art and books in an uncertain artistic time. She is all over the map in her interests and she's not the kind of person whose opinions are predictable. She challenges the reader to think and re-think. She dazzles in a very quiet manner.
In the preface alone she uses canard, magnanimity and shibboleth. She's cool like that.
This does a good job summing it up.
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