Sometimes … one does sense a degree of California School of Pointless Insight in [Mitchell's] work. Sometimes I feel I've put myself through all manner of tortuous self-analysis with her and am no closer to knowing what to do about it, and the vehicle of escape—whether it be a big yellow taxi, the pick-up pitch of a fast lady trying to compete with the hockey game in the bar of the Empire Hotel, or a street corner where someone is providing free clarinet music—is not always there when I need it…. Pretentious, some say [of "The Hissing of Summer Lawns"], meaning (I gather) not artistically but intellectually. Others claim that the less serious parts of it are too full of jive—including too much use of jive and words like it—and they don't want her making what she does jibe with this label someone pinned on...