The Angle

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In lieu of an abstract, below is the essay's first paragraph.

"For years I resisted the blandishments, the siren song of the Freudian school of literary analysis. Marie Bonaparte and her disciple, Leslie Fiedler, left me cold with their broad, enticing hints of impotency and miscegenated homosexuality. Whenever I was accused by some staid Jamesian of treating his milk-soppy, fingertipkissing, neuter Henry with cavalier Freudianism, I invariably took umbrage at the libel. My central position, as I saw it, was that if there is latent homosexuality in us all, awaiting only the proper moment of failure and frustration to signal its emergence, then let latent homosexuality lie. I, for one, didn't want to know about this disgraceful aspect of my idlibidoego. Anyway, the only homosexual personalities I've ever met were anything but latent: you could spot them a mile away. Their patter is as subtle as that of a Peking Red Guard cadre, and their "approach" is quite as obvious as that of one male dog to another."

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