He held rigid views on the art of the novel, and always maintained that an artist with a true reverence for his craft should not descend to gooey love stories, but should stick austerely to revolvers, cries in the night, missing papers, mysterious Chinamen, and dead bodies - with or without gash in throat. And not even the thought that his aunt had dandled him on her knee as a baby could induce him to stifle his literary conscience to the extend of pretending to enjoy her work. First, last, and all the time, James Rodman had held the opinion - and voiced it fearlessly - that Leila J. Pinckney wrote bilge.
(from Meet Mr. Mulliner, by Sir Pelham Wodehouse)
No comments:
Post a Comment