I was out this morning listening to Forum on the car radio. The topic of the hour was the nascent Gray Davis recall campaign. One angry caller, a self-identified Democrat, said he was fully in favor of the recall. After ranting a bit about Davis, he softened his tone and ended with a wistful, “The recall will help us heal the soul of our politics.” Now any ordinary mortal is sure to go into involuntary spasms of laughter upon hearing the words “heal”, “soul”, and “politics” coupled with the word “recall” — and I am proud to report that I am no exception. It was a good thing I had just finished parking the car. Whoever said talk radio isn’t dangerous?

Now the reason I was parking the car was in order to pick up Jedediah Purdy’s new book, Being America. I had read about this book a few days ago, and that triggered some memories. Hey — wasn’t that the young guy who wrote that book a few years ago about how we are too ironic and cynical and lazy, and that we really need to, like, knock it off? Why, yes, it was. I had remembered that at the time I had really wanted to buy Purdy’s first book (For Common Things), but I never got around to it and I eventually forgot all about it.

However, now I was a bit torn on whether or not to shell out for the book. Just a week ago I got burned on The Spooky Art. I had figured that if Norman Mailer at the age of eighty can’t tell me something interesting about writing, then who the hell can? Well, the book had a few nice bits here and there. But for the most part it was arrogant and crusty and — in the words of my mother when she glanced at the teaser-quotes on the back cover — clichéd. (Frankly, Steven King with his On Writing beats the pants off of Norman Mailer, both in the about-writing area and in the irrelevant-personal-fluff area.)

So, not quite sure what to do, I started looking for reviews of Purdy’s first book. Fortunately, I didn’t have to go further than this irredeemably nasty Salon.com review to settle the issue. Anyone who can work the poseurs at Salon.com into such a frothing latter has got to be a Force for Good. I rushed out to the local bookstore and got a copy of For Common Things. And a copy of Being America — in hardback. Just for spite.