Welcome Home, Mr. Ellroy, to Our City of Seduction

While relishing the finger-popping jazz cadence of James Ellroy’s beautiful prose, I found myself whispering “Yes, yes, yes” in recognition of every hurt, disappointment and seduction that Los Angeles offers (“The Great Right Place,” July 30). It’s not necessary to descend to the depths (or climb to the pinnacle) to appreciate the lure of our great city.

L.A. is bipolar. It is mean and dirty one minute and sweet and beautiful the next. Los Angeles is the bad boyfriend or psycho girlfriend whom you just can’t bring yourself to leave, because in the back of your mind you hope against hope that things are gonna get better. But as often as it breaks your heart, Los Angeles can kiss the pain and make it go away (or at least make you forget for a while). Welcome home, Mr. Ellroy. We missed you.

Deedee Messana

Los Angeles

*

Being a novice writer and a fan of Ellroy’s work, I found that his piece held a double dose of insight. It was powerful not only for its candid commentary on a man’s life permeating his art, but for how the tale unfolded within the beautiful staccato mechanics of Ellroy’s writing.

Mark Rosenblum

Temple City

*

Ellroy must be one of the worst stylists in history. I was struck by his story, and sympathetic to a life obviously difficult to live. But his writing is beyond belief. The short sentences, the lousy misuse of verbs and nouns, the punchy dumbness of the sentences. It all adds up to a terrible misuse of the language that ought to be discouraged. It doesn’t matter that he wrote “L.A. Confidential.” He is still a terrible writer.

Bruce Whiteman

Head Librarian

William Andrews Clark

Memorial Library, UCLA

Los Angeles