“Books are papery gifts that say lots and lots – much of it stuff that the author never wrote. We give them to people we’re obliged to and secretly hate. A book says: ‘I’m cleverer than you.’ It says: ‘You need to read this because you have no conversation and your thoughts are wan, halt things. I’m giving it to you with the thin smile of pitying patronage. And it will be a personal and private recrimination for years to come, because I know you’re cancerous with guilt about all the unconsumed words left on your bedside table.’ A book says: ‘I loved this when I was 13. Now you’re in your late forties, you might be able to appreciate it.’ Never for one single, naive moment imagine that a book at Christmas is well meant. Read between the lines, dummy – it’s an ode to snobbery and loathing.”
What a wanker.
The Mrs read that quote out to me this morning and, with his girlfriend (“The Blonde”) in mind, asked “How does she put up with him?”
I think he’s very funny. A lot of that apparently misanthropic stuff is just showing off. I’ve seen him write very movingly about much weightier topics.
In the full article from which this quote is taken, there’s a more serious bit further down that I really liked and which I nearly used instead:
I was trying to think of something else he wrote to convince you of his brilliance and this one sprang immediately to mind.
Coincidentally, in another section of the same paper I came across this, which is quite a good summary.
an absolutely great snippet of writing. great material