ABSTRACT
I say I. I am going to say I. I claim the right to say I. Since I, a woman using language, am going to say what I find wrong with the language of a woman I admire, I will not shelter behind the anonymous array of third-person modes ‘crrrriticism’, by tacit agreement, requires. I will be no puppeteer of my own sentences. No ghostly judge arraigning my betters in the name of some assumed (fatuous) moral right. If I ‘pass’ ‘judgement’ (rather, it suddenly occurs to me, as one passes water, or a motion), I will also lay my own head on the chopping block. Then (to go on with what’s turning out to be in worse and worse taste) my judgement may appear due to fear.
