Jessa Crispin, understandably vexed by the controversy-flogging stories about Nicholson Baker's forthcoming novel, recently placed the burden on the NY Times to come through with a review which would simply tell her if the book -- which, because it involves characters discussing the possibility of killing the current President of the United states, has invited much commentary unrelated to its quality as a story -- is, in her words, "any good?" A pertinent question indeed.

It was interesting to see how Leon Wieseltier rose to the task. Indeed, more than most reviewers at the Times he chose to gesture at an evaluation of the title in question at a relatively early point in the review: the essay's first four words (out of around 2,200) are "This scummy little book..." Like his protege Dale Peck, Wieseltier isn't afraid to use a hatchet when it's called for.

Except of course, that what's apparently called for here is a chainsaw, the better to cut through the poisonwood forest called "liberal demagougery." Baker's book is an excuse to execrate Michael Moore and angry radicals in general. Indeed, Wieseltier's beef with Checkpoint is that it is "much too close to its subject" -- that is, it's so involved with political realities and political emotion that it is impossible to consider it as a novel. But of course, as it turns out, Wieseltier doesn't like any of Baker's "creepy hermeneutical toys" and all are swiftly dismissed in the same terms that invalidate this one.

I suppose he means that The Fermata is too close to the subject of sexual fantasy, or that The Mezzanine is too close to the subject of the workplace, or U and I is too close to the subject of being obsessed with another writer. But how he distinguishes permissible closeness from "No, that's too damn close, there, Nick! Damn it, you ruined another promising subject!" is a mystery to me.

But whether or not I understand what Wieseltier hates in Baker's signature approach in his his novels and essays, it strikes me as odd that, with such a sweeping distate for the author's work, he would be encouraged to write a review of this particularly interesting new book -- and that he would use the opportunity to pen an essay telling all the people who have been pissed off by the Bush administration that expressions of their rage, frustration, and fear for the future are, in fact, a "degradation" to be avoided by all responsible citizens.

Finally, one has to not with a raised eyebrow the barely veiled attack on the author's morality. One might argue that "scummy" was meant only to apply to the book in question. But when "creepy hermeneutical toys" came in, there was no question at all. And the use of such middle-school innuendo precisely places the level at which the entire article seemed to be pitched.