The New Yorker: The Critics: Books: "One of the most mysterious of writing�s immaterial properties is what people call �voice.� Editors sometimes refer to it, in a phrase that underscores the paradox at the heart of the idea, as �the voice on the page.� Prose can show many virtues, including originality, without having a voice. It may avoid clich�, radiate conviction, be grammatically so clean that your grandmother could eat off it. But none of this has anything to do with this elusive entity the �voice.� There are probably all kinds of literary sins that prevent a piece of writing from having a voice, but there seems to be no guaranteed technique for creating one. Grammatical correctness doesn�t insure it. Calculated incorrectness doesn�t, either. Ingenuity, wit, sarcasm, euphony, frequent outbreaks of the first-person singular�any of these can enliven prose without giving it a voice. You can set the stage as elaborately as you like, but either the phantom appears or it doesn�t."