These are reviews of Mishka's work written by Jacob while in the writing workshop at Columbia:

(Jacob's least favorite story of mine.)

Despite being written well at the sentence level, the story as a whole is not good. There is no narrative momentum, no menace, no anger, no pathos, not even any bathos, and only a little bit of humor. The characters are flat, and almost nothing about them is revealed except in narrative asides. From the outset, you get the sense that nothing is going to happen to these characters, that they don't really care for each other, and you simply don't care. This is the least accomplished work of yours I've seen. You're a far better writer than this.

Mishka,

This is promising work on the whole, but the first section (?) needs serious work. …[It seems] Adam is here for purposes of healing, but what else, is he horny, angry, disappointed, etc? All we know is that he likes tinkering, music and weed. Who doesn't? (I, for one, but you get the point…) In this section, compared to chapter one and also previous Mishka narrators, Adam seems to have lost not only his face, but his heart and balls as well… This chapter does feel a little rushed, and the family reminiscences in the car are lame and make him seem like a wuss.

Mishka,

Your writing keeps getting better: the humor is sharper, and Adam's emotional contours and volatility are more crisply communicated. You know I like this, so I'm going to dispense with the praise forthwith. (Jacob was all about dispensing with the praise forthwith.) One final thing: I'd let more of Adam's intelligence filter into his conversation. I think he's brighter than the other guys, let it show more, let them be aware of it (without perhaps having him aware of the awareness). As it stands, it seems like perhaps you're wary of insight seeming too retrospective. And, indeed it could be, so let his intelligence appear completely conjoined to those less mature parts of his person.

(These next two are from two drafts of the same story. Not much changed-except Jacob's response to it.)

Mishka,

This is unquestionably the best work of yours we've seen to date. The writing is sophisticated, fluid and clear. The details are impeccable. This has the rare power of fully imagined work.

Mishka, Mishka, Mishka,

The problem's not that you're a pervert (although you are, and this is born out by the fact that the word "panties" appears about 75 times in this story), but that when the plot itself is separated from the narrative technique cleverness, it is bizarrely simple-minded… This is not a story a talented individual like yourself should be authoring. Sorry to be such a dick, but it's only because I like you.

Best,

Jacob.

This review was written by Mishka in Jacob's voice, dealing with the circumstances of Jacob's death as if it were a story Mishka had written:

Mishka,

This story has serious plot problems (specifically the melodramatic ending, which I'll address later) but you have managed to create an engaging and even at times poignant main character. Though the combination of his statuesque physique, his hyper-intelligence and his near-total consumption of English and German literature makes him seem like some kind of superman, thus partially alienating the reader (is it absolutely necessary for him to have gone to Yale and done graduate work in philosophy? Really, Mishka, there must be a less elementary and conventional way of denoting intelligence…) we quickly begin to like, root for, and even identify with the main character. The physical characterization here is much sharper than in your previous work; at times, you can almost see this character: looking over his glasses at you with one eyebrow cocked after delivering a particularly cutting line, screwing up his face at some student writing that he finds particularly distasteful, doing a spot-on impersonation of the aging patriarch of the Writing Division, grinning easily, even purely-humbly-at the jabs of his friends. The references to his "bulging biceps" give the text a caricaturish feel, and could be cut down by half, or cut entirely with no ill effect on the overall narrative. If you downplayed his glowing health and glowing life in general (loving girlfriend, understanding friends, future so bright he's got to wear shades, etc.) then some of the darkness, the anger, nihilism and even convincingly portrayed despair might make sense. As for right now, it is bizarre and grossly unbelievable; it feels tacked-on, made-up at the last second as if you realized a couple of hours before the story was due "Oh shit, this guy has no problems. Oh, yeah, okay, he'll be on heroin." It's bullshit, you know it, and you're capable of far better.

The conclusion to the story is similarly flawed, but to the point of being unusable. It's so familiar, this banal tragedy, and it unfolds like bad TV. Though another story would risk sentimentality with a happy ending, this character is specific and even noble enough to carry it. As it is, you've consigned a unique character to a hurried and clichéed bad fate which feels absurd because the reader has deliberately been given a definite sense that this guy has a very promising future and a full life ahead of him. I recommend you scrap everything after the thesis reading scene: this story demands a serious rewrite, and an ending that's not so obviously bogus. Sorry to be such a dick, but it's only because I like you.

Best,

Jacob