Slate explains why no female writers could be used in Vogue’s recent Edith Wharton tribute spread. Obviously, female writers are all monsters who must hide behind their book jackets for fear that someone might spot their visible pores and burn them at the stake. Even though Wharton wasn’t considered attractive (yet somehow managed to live a rich life) and was well into her forties before she achieved true literary success, she must be impersonated by a twenty-something supermodel. This makes perfect sense. I do enjoy Eugenides rocking the bowler hat though.