Too cold blood

Anyone who's read In Cold Blood want to give me encouragment? A hundred pages later, I'm unconvinced by its greatness. Capote's chunks of details fail to accrete into a Balzacian totality; his style seems a rather unglamorous form of fetishization (Which is some kind of achievement, actually). Most of what I've read is dull: it's like being on an ocean liner and watching waves lap the portholes.

Daphne Merkin fails to mention that Capote mastered this form of mummified hybridization to such an extent that, like James Joyce and Ulysses, he closed the door on his own followers. Who could (or want to) duplicate his achievement? Moreover, to claim that Capote came off better than "today's scoop-obsessed and elasticized [WTF?] journalistic standards" is wishful thinking; Capote lived with the consequences of his bad faith for the rest of his life, and probably hastened his death.

All the same, I can't wait until Capote opens in South Florida. Care to provide a review, Madame Flowers?