Debra Pickett

Dear Ms. Pickett,

I tried not to, but I just had to respond to your article on Po Bronson: I have to say I’m truly disappointed.

First off, Ms. Jacobs’ review was not, as you put it, delicious. It was a series of unwarranted personal attacks that had nothing whatsoever to do with Po’s work. Perhaps I’m simple-minded, but I thought reviews were supposed to educate readers about a particular writing, not act as a venue for mean-spirited critiques on personal appearance. (Which, by the way, I cannot even dream would be tolerated from a male reviewer about a female author.) And prior to your meeting, if you’d read past Po’s home page and looked at the over 600 pages of research Po and I have put together for the book, perhaps you’d have had a slightly more open mind going in to meeting him.

Second, and, well, it’s really your loss, not the reader’s: you refused to realize it but you were having lunch with the nicest people on the planet. Had you read not just the NYT, but the Wash Post review by Carolyn See, she wrote that she hadn’t met Po, but everyone who knew him said he had a heart of gold.

I’ve known Po for five years. I was profiled in his last book, What Should I Do With My Life?. And since then, I’m honored to say that I’m his friend, and I’ve acted as his researcher for Why Do I Love These People?.

When Po comes back from interviewing a family, he’s emotionally drained for days. He really does care about each and every one of them: he feels morally obligated to honestly tell their stories. Sure, he could turn people’s lives into a snarky anecdote to delight you and the literati . . . and crush those who trusted him. But he absolutely refuses to do that; in fact, it’s probably his worst fear.

But -- since you and Ms. Jacobs think it’s more important to doubt his sincerity than judge the words on his pages -- consider this. He loves his wife; he’s absolutely besotted with his children. Po’s the only person I’ve ever met in my entire life who, when he said he wanted to help me, actually did it. He’s picked up the phone for me, emailed, tried to get me work from his colleagues. He’s bought 30 underprivileged kids I tutor Halloween costumes for two years.

I’m not going to say anything else, because I wouldn’t want to embarrass him. But suffice it to say he’s for real. He’s genuine.

And perhaps, the next time you meet someone as great as Po, you'll consider it is not him, but his fashionably ironic critics who should be the target of your own cynicism.

Sincerely yours, -- I mean snarkily. Because that’s apparently the only tone you really trust.

Ashley Merryman

PICKETT replies:

It's not just sincerety that freaks me out. I also find hero worship a little creepy, too.