I've written before about the ways in which I identify with the protagonist of Saul Bellow's Herzog, and that I'm aware of the implications of thinking, while reading about a man suffering a mental breakdown, "This guy makes a lot of good points." I've also written about the freedom that comes from being everyone's least-favorite family member.
What happens when you combine these things? I really want to start writing letters to my family members telling them exactly what I'm thinking of them.
Not all of them would be bad things. At least two of the letters would be very complimentary. But there are some things going on in my family right now that everyone thinks are terrible but no one is saying anything about it (and for my reading family members, I'm talking about more than just the obvious one). And I feel like I would lose absolutely no social capital (because you can't draw your social capital account down below zero) if I told some of these people the truth.
"Oh but, A Random Stranger, what if they returned the favor?" Please, be my guest. There's nothing you think is wrong with me that I haven't already cataloged in detail in my brain. Bring up a topic and I'll provide all your evidence. Eventually Herzog comes to self-criticism, too, right?