Snarkenfreude Sister

Snarkenfreude Sister

“the dreary limbo of
dinginess lay all around”
—Edith Wharton,
The House of Mirth

Dearest Edith,

I apologize for writing this way at such a late date, knowing of course you’re not with us anymore—but better late than never.

Forgive me for being snarky—but I’ve been reading your novels.

I once was a happy Child of Camp—but then I read The House of Mirth.

Things don’t seem so funny and camp anymore.

But that was Then—and This is Now.

Now I feel sort of retro-camp, i.e. rather Snarkabratory.

I used to be just a happy go lucky little Love Child of the Zippity-Do-Dah Zeitgeist—dontchaknow?

Yes, a gay carefree little Love Child Boomer Boy…

As surely as Strom Thurmond was my big tall handsome Sugar Daddy Who Art In Dixie Heaven!!!

But, Edith, a funny thing happened to me—on the way to Barnes and Noble…

Or rather coming out of that great Book Temple…

Hurrying home to read your House of Mirth & Age of Innocence…

Expecting Entertainment Tonight—getting Night of the Living Dead…

How naïve I was—there at B & N…

Ascending & descending the Escalator…

Bright sunlight filtering down thru the skylights…

Shoppers, students, young and old…

The gaiety & joy of tender young Freshmen everywhere…

Getting ready for another exciting Fall Quarter…

Oh to be young again—those Days of Wine and Roses…

But there I was—yours truly vicariously, vampiresquely…

Haunting the vast youthful Cloud of Unknowing…

Refreshing myself in The Age of Innocence…

Little did I know what Literary Melancholy waited me…

Between the covers of The House of Mirth…

Now I’m a Prisoner of Zenda…

Ensnared and enslaved to you, my Snarkenfreude Sister.

Not only by the campy style of your exquisite writing…

But even more so by your wicked tongue…

For you are truly The Queen of Snark…

And I am your lowly snarkalicious slave…