SOCKCUCKER BLUES
by Charlie Finch



I really don't give a damn about Robert Frank's "The Americans," now playing at the Metropolitan Museum Bijou and, is the case these days, turgidly being recelebrated and regurgitated in every publication from a dissection of its influence on the way these photos have influenced the way we look at America by Luc Sante in the Financial Times to further noodlings by Charles Osgood on CBS Sunday Morning to Vogue and, for all I know, Mad magazine. There’s nothing like dose after dose of cultural castor oil to turn Americans into Americans and back again.

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