Jessa Crispin refuses to read Freedom, by Jonathan Franzen:

The idea that as a literary person there are a certain set of books you must read because they are important parts of the literary conversation is constantly implied, yet quite ridiculous. Once you get done with the Musts the Franzens, Mitchells, Vollmanns, Roths, Shteyngarts and then get through the Booker long list, and the same half-dozen memoirs everyone else is reading this year (crack addiction and face blindness seem incredibly important this year), you have time for maybe two quirky choices, if you are a hardcore reader. Or a critic. And then congratulations, you have had the same conversations as everyone else in the literary world.

The Atlantic's B.R. Myers'  torpedoed Franzen in the latest issue. Responses to that biting review are here.