Every woman must decide how not to sleep with Jonathan Franzen in her own way. I learned from my grandmother, a wise woman who lived in the forest and only very rarely slept with Jonathan Franzen. She told me once, on a frosty winter night, how best to escape his sexual clutches if I ever…
Bah, oh my god this.
"As you can imagine, marrying the woman he loved and then receiving a rare book from a man he respected filled Jonathan Franzen with a molten and an unbearable fury, because there is nothing more enraging than privilege or good luck. It was too much for him to bear, and it made him particularly special. He became so angry that he temporarily became a geode. A geode full of crystals, but also of anger. (Have you had sex with Jonathan Franzen yet? No? Be careful. He will hate you for it and fling coins at old German women to punish them.)"