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“The Norman Conquest” (Demimonde, 1/7) by Arion Berger impressed me as brilliant and sane. Berger does an excellent job of distinguishing between illustration and fine art—and of granting illustration its givens. And it clearly delineates a kind of subtle reverse snobbery in much revisionist slumming: We are now allowed to enjoy Norman Rockwell because the right critics have declared him fine art.
It also struck me as atypical of Washington City Paper criticism (including Berger’s own), in that it grants us “ordinary Americans” the right to “sort of like” the things we sort of like.