The novel and the piano remain literary and musical gateways to bourgeois culture, and will remain so as long as bourgeois culture is regnant (in olden days it was poetry and the piano). For the rest, there is HBO.
What once threatened the novel — on this side of the pond — were the likes of David Foster Wallace and Jonathan Franzen. However, one is no longer alive; the other’s over-inflated sense of aesthetic worth has burst against the sharp blade of Karl Kraus’ rhetoric.
“My Best Friend’s Wedding” is a terrifically cynical film; the interchange between Diaz and Roberts offers a critical theory of BFFs that rivals Adorno’s send up of astrology columns. It is the “Heathers” of the 1990s.