Cintra Wilson is a culture critic, a former New York Times fashion critic, and the author of four books, including Fear and Clothing: Unbuckling American Style and A Massive Swelling: Celebrity Re-Examined as a Grotesque, Crippling Disease. Her artwork can be seen at www.cintrawilsonart.com (April 2020)
But aside from the toe-tapping brawls and rapturous character assassinations, the real star of Letterkenny is the radical moral decency at its core. Letterkenny is a decidedly Arcadian place, where there is enough leisure time (unlike in the corporate-driven, wage-slavery hellscape of the metropolitan United States) to drink, play video games, and socialize. It is a bundle of electric frictions between contradictions: a peace-loving place of brotherly love and neighbors who mow each other’s lawns, where everyone nonetheless loves a daily fistfight.
By the time the eight-week course was over, I was the wretch I am now: an unhinged woman vehemently obsessed with oil painting who wrestles with it like a feral person for hours every day. I had earth-moving revelations as I graduated from using makeup brushes to real sable, and switched from canvas to linen panels. My formerly adorable kitchen now looks as though Francis Bacon had assaulted a pope in it. I know things about linseed oil its own mother doesn’t know.