![]() ![]() ![]() Her 2008 debut collection of personal essays, I Was Told There’d Be Cake, prompted one critic to anoint her, specifically, a voice of “the mall-rat generation,” which, as typical for pop sociological shorthand, manages to be both momentarily evocative and something of an unintended punchline. ![]() Maybe there are worse things for the aliens to believe, but that’s not the point.Īuthor Sloane Crosley has written around the designation, but she hasn’t avoided it. If, tomorrow, aliens were to descend and encounter the platitude in a research binge through back-issues of general interest magazines, they might assume that demographic groupings of similarly-aged people lie in desperate wait for a singular mouthpiece to proclaim their shared experience and, once located, heave a sigh of collective relief. Taken literally, the implication is absurd. For reasons unknown, the public success of young women writers seems disproportionately liable to provoke pronouncements that they are the voice of a generation. ![]()
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