“The real target of [the authors’] often uproarious gibes is modernism--or the part of it that zealously pursues theories of ‘pure’ form into Cloud-Cuckoo-Land. The result, which Domecq never perceives, is invariably monstrous: novels and poems that cannot be read, art that cannot be seen, architecture--freed from ‘the demands of responsibility’--that cannot be used....With donnish humor and unfailing intelligence, Chronicles of Bustos Domecq thrusts a rapier into such gargantuan posturing.” Time
“The real target of [the authors’] often uproarious gibes is modernism--or the part of it that zealously pursues theories of ‘pure’ form into Cloud-Cuckoo-Land. The result, which Domecq never perceives, is invariably monstrous: novels and poems that cannot be read, art that cannot be seen, architecture--freed from ‘the demands of responsibility’--that cannot be used....With donnish humor and unfailing intelligence, Chronicles of Bustos Domecq thrusts a rapier into such gargantuan posturing.” Time
