In this late edition (our fault, we slept through yesterday) of her coverage of the New York Times Book Review, Intern Alexis wedges herself amongst David Brooks, Malcom Gladwell, and Stanley Crouch—and it's every bit as hot as it sounds. After the jump, Alexis presents her weekly guide to staying one step ahead of Oprah's Book Club.

Blink: The Power of Thinking Without Thinking
By Malcolm Gladwell
Reviewed by David Brooks

There s been so much chatter surrounding Malcolm Know Me, Know My Hair Gladwell s new book that we were already kind of bored before we even started reading David Brooks review. Gladwell claims that quick, on the spot decisions are just as, if not more, accurate than long, thought out blah blah blah. Brooks cleverly plays on Gladwell s theory by, again and again, coming back to his first impression of Gladwell s book. Get it? It s a book about first impressions and Brooks is giving us his first impressions of a book about first impressions Oy. It s so meta, yet so lame.

Letters
In reaction to the Dec. 26 Book Review, in which each letter to the editor was written by either the author, the editor, the critic or some other party intimately involved with the creation or analysis of the book in question, David Moore of Chicago asks, Where are the letters from real readers? He gets all Boss says cut back, we say fight back! on Tanenhaus and co. exclaiming, Rise up, readers! Take back the letters page! Lock your doors and guard your children, folks — the angry masses of New York Times Book Review-readers, armed with hardcover, first-edition copies of The Elements of Style are descending upon us, and they are not afraid to throw them!

The Artificial White Man: Essays on Authenticity
By Stanley Crouch
Reviewed by Emily Eakin

Emily Eakin acknowledges that she is risking her life reviewing a book by Stanley Crouch and references the July 2004, Dale Peck incident, in which Mr. Crouch slapped critic Dale Peck across the face at Tartine. She writes: Whatever one thinks of his tactics they are, like his unvarnished prose, hard to square with his high-minded intellectual concerns. Indeed, while Ms. Eakin acknowledges that some of Crouch s theories deserve serious consideration, he is ultimately, she argues, a pretty ghastly writer. Example: Writers nowadays, Crouch laments, are Walking beneath a flag of white underwear stained fully yellow by liquefied fear. But it seems as if Ms. Eakin is a little too afraid of Crouch not to cushion her criticism with some praise, and ends her review, timidly: Crouch is too smart and too original a thinker not to be held to the same high standards for which he has relentlessly agitated. Crouch will probably see through her egg-shell-walking, though, and we recommend that Ms. Eakin leave her staff position at the New Yorker immediately and enroll in the Witness Protection Program.

Kapow!
By George O Connor
Reviewed by Jake Coburn

This week s NYTBR was full of boundary-breaking and envelope-pushing revelations (For instance, we found out that Jonathan Safran Foer was influenced by Kafka!). That s why we were a little surprised to see Jake Coburn s pussy-ass review of Kapow! a children s book about a young superhero. He writes: It s worth noting that the children knock over a five-shelf bookcase. While no one is hurt, the potential for very serious injury may be too disturbing for some parents. A table lamp or vase could have played the same narrative role without such real danger. On second thought, Mr. Coburn does have a point. Yeah, we re supposed to be sarcastic, dry and offensive. But every once in a while, we like to take a step back, reflect and get serious. Falling bookcases are really no laughing matter. And the image of a five-shelf bookcase falling on top of a child, and ultimately crushing the wee un like a beetle, is even too disturbing for this book review reviewer. You ought to be ashamed of yourself, George O Connor!