The Baby Diaries: Literary Criticism

I haven’t really kept up with the last few decades of children’s publishing, and I assumed that, reasonably similar to the coincidence that music was the best it has ever been and ever will be when I was between the ages of thirteen and maybe twenty-five or so, the books I remember reading when I was a small child represent a kind of Fukuyama event.

See it on phoeberoy.substack.com ↗