From: J trootter
Date: 11 April 2002
Why does marxist literary critic Eagleton write in such an unfunny punny matey pub intellectual way? Perhaps he thinks a proletarian might pick up his book with his/her grubby hand in his/her search for enlightenment? Nevertheless, and despite its slack reasoning and many unsupported assertions, this book is mildy stimulating. Like a gin and tonic before you hit the martinis. He never really provides an alteranative to postmodernism, much in the way he crticizes postmodernism for not challenging capitalism, he only comes up with vague ideas of joyful total living, where we practice the art of life, or the life of art.Who are we anyway? But but, but, the introduction is often better than the real thing, Eagleton makes you think marxism and postmodernism might be quite interesting if you knew more about them. So read this book, that's a categorical imperative, throw off your chains and realize we're all prisoners of subjectivity anyway. A little learning is dangerous, anything more is hard work.
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