Holy zeitgeist, people. "I don't like this story," I can understand, albeit sadly, because this was absolutely amazing. But where did all this hostility come from? "I don't like this, therefore anyone who says they do is lying in order to look smart." What kind of crazy moon-logic is that?
Lord knows I don't like some stuff and can't understand how people enjoy it. ("The Human Centipede," I'm looking at you.) But it doesn't inspire anger in me. (Okay, "Fight Club" did because I saw immediately that dudebro anarchists would start worshiping Tyler Durden, who is an appalling person to worship or even listen to. The minds behind it have since claimed satire, which I am willing to grant them gratis but which does not wholly assuage my irritation and resentment that they made me listen to Tyler Durden for two hours. And "Inglorious Basterds," because Tarantino basically made a giant fuck you to his fans, and assumed that we were all his fans, which we were not, that we all enjoyed violence qua violence, which I do not, and that we wouldn't notice that he called the people who laughed and cheered at the foregoing movie Hitler, which while I was kind of appalled that people were cheering and laughing was, I felt, deeply unfair and inappropriate. But I digress. Rather badly, at that.)
I just get weirded out the way literary stuff seems to bring out the pitchforks in genre fans. (Not just SF fans, though it's probably most virulent here.) Just because someone is doing something a little weird, a little experimental, and a little pretentious (and I mean that in the best way, Ms. Johnson, if you're reading; I suspect you might understand what I mean by that), that does not mean that you have to insist that it's valueless, that it's not a story, and that all professed enjoyment of it is feigned.
Perhaps I am taking it a bit personally. This story made me grin wildly when I heard it, and it made me immediately want to share it with others because it was delirious and insightful and subtle and crooked-thinking and acid-sharp. Then I come here (where reading the entire thread is my job now) and get people telling me that I'm lying if I say I liked it, that I just want to "look smart," that no one in their right minds could possibly extract joy and meaning from this piece. And I'm just torn between "sucks to your asthma" and crying because no one loves me.