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Carp away, damn you all. Mailer will survive all the back-alley ambushes laid for him by people like Wallace and the reviewers of <big>????????</big>. In aliterary world where most of the champions are featherweights with glass-jaws, it's a dangerous life being one of the few real pro heavyweights. Everything he publishes is important, and a novel with the daring and vigor of An American Dream cannot be dismissed with pathetic references to Ian Fleming (my Lord...) or accusations of pretension and bad taste. The bad taste lies not with a man like Mailer, but with the middle-brow public that consumes television and the books of Wouk, Michener and Harold Robbins. This nation has two choices, RIGHT NOW, (not twenty years from now): it can wake up and drop its frontiersman hatred of intellectual attainment and "kulcher' and be willing to dare, to live more vividly, to stop being afraid of sex, life, death or hell's very passions; or it can muddle through on its own momentum for perhaps another half-century <big>?????</big> the rot sets in for good. The neo-Renaissance could happen here, or we could miss our <big>?????</big> utterly. It's a hard job waking up 200 million consciousnesses, but Mailer and a few others are throwing buckets of ice water into our faces as hard as they can. If the doom comes, we'll have only our own bad tastes to blame.  
Carp away, damn you all. Mailer will survive all the back-alley ambushes laid for him by people like Wallace and the reviewers of <big>????????</big>. In aliterary world where most of the champions are featherweights with glass-jaws, it's a dangerous life being one of the few real pro heavyweights. Everything he publishes is important, and a novel with the daring and vigor of An American Dream cannot be dismissed with pathetic references to Ian Fleming (my Lord...) or accusations of pretension and bad taste. The bad taste lies not with a man like Mailer, but with the middle-brow public that consumes television and the books of Wouk, Michener and Harold Robbins. This nation has two choices, RIGHT NOW, (not twenty years from now): it can wake up and drop its frontiersman hatred of intellectual attainment and "kulcher' and be willing to dare, to live more vividly, to stop being afraid of sex, life, death or hell's very passions; or it can muddle through on its own momentum for perhaps another half-century <big>?????</big> the rot sets in for good. The neo-Renaissance could happen here, or we could miss our <big>?????</big> utterly. It's a hard job waking up 200 million consciousnesses, but Mailer and a few others are throwing buckets of ice water into our faces as hard as they can. If the doom comes, we'll have only our own bad tastes to blame.  


In the beginning, Mister Wallace, Sartre's book were full of pretension,  
In the beginning, Mister Wallace, Sartre's book were full of pretension, so.....


Yours sincerely,  
Yours sincerely,  
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