Q: What is the greatest artistic challenge of the Twentieth Century? You make reference to this on your home page.

A: In our culture, the greatest artistic challenge of the Twentieth Century is to distinguish art from noise, caprice and artifice - to recover a sense of discrimination and the sense of entitlement to a sense of discrimination. We have been taught only relativism; we have been saturated with relativism from every conceivable source, so that we feel unable to say more than "I like it." or, "I don't like it." We must recover our right to say, "That is crap. It isn't art. It is an insult to my sense of dignity and my sense of life." We must expect art to be elevating, inspiring or consoling. We must not confuse art and entertainment.

Q: What is a culture?

A: A culture, or a society, is a set of rules and practices which permit a group of people to live in a constant or stable condition through many generations and through foreseeable upheavals (war, famine, disease). By this definition, contemporary American society is not a "society." It has more in common with an epidemic - the Andromeda Strain, Mad Cow Disease or AIDS - which mutates and continues to consume. One could explain this by saying that the entirety of human evolution has not equipped humanity to deal with technological upheaval, but an explanation does not, in itself, mitigate the our state of crisis.

Q: What makes you so special?

A: Special is up to the reader. I am looking for books that inspire the reader with hope, heroism and the fundamental dignity of life. There is a special quality of clarity to good books. These are not virtues in the world we live in.

Q: Do you think the writing in The New Yorker is good?

A: The New Yorker bears the burden of having to flatter its readers that New York life is terribly clever and wonderful. Apart from that one frightening fiction, I like the magazine for its editorial courage and curiosity, as well as its style.

Q: Is clever writing what rings your chimes?

A: I think academics value wit for its own sake, without looking for meaning behind it. Or else, they substitute wit for meaning. I go for wit as a vehicle to further meaning. Obscurity does not ring my chimes.

Q: What about pornography?

A: We usually think of pornography as dealing with the sensational aspects of sex: out of the context, without the responsibilities and consequences of real life. That's sexual pornography. With apologies for abusing the etymology of the word pornography (from the Greek, referring to writing about prostitutes), I think the travel section of your Sunday paper qualifies as travel pornography - how to get the most pleasure and value from a trip, without respecting the culture which you are transgressing and without a thought for the social and environmental consequences of your trip. I think the food section qualifies as food pornography - how to get the most pleasure from what you eat, without a thought for nourishing and protecting your body. It's all cheap thrills without regard for meaning or consequences. I'm not interested in living, reading or publishing pornography.

Q: What about poetry?

A: I love poetry, but not many folks read it these days. What do other readers think? Would you buy poetry, if it were available? What are your ideas and tastes?