Last week I was arguing with a friend about the sucktasticness of Chuck Klosterman’s Downtown Owl . I supported by case by citing the adverbs, the weird omniscient narrator from the future, and the general amateurish writing.
My adversary countered with, “You’re just jealous.”
This is often the argument I get whenever I yip at those hipsters hold in such high esteem (see: Diablo Cody). It’s also the argument that levels me. My knee-jerk reaction is to howl in protest about how much I am not jealous, how I rip on it because it is not good and not out of jealousy.
But on some level I am jealous. Klosterman and Cody has two of the awesomest jobs ever. For the record I am also jealous of Heather Armstrong, Kevin Brockmeier, Maud Newton, Junot Diaz, Aimee Bender, and whomever is sleeping with John Cusack. And, oddly, enough nobody ever thinks I’m jealous of those people.
I’ve been wondering about this jealousy accusation. Where does it come from? Is it because I am an unsuccessful writer where Klosterman and Cody are successful writers? Because I love great gobs of writers (see the list above)
Do people who dislike musicians who aren’t so great at what they do and yet get a lot of acclaim for it also get called jealous? Nobody has ever accused me of being jealous of Gwen Stefani.