All writers are egoists. They believe their work is valuable and they have the right to put it before everything else in life. Nice writers—Henry James, Anton Chekhov, Stephen Crane—are rare; nasty ones—Louis-Ferdinand Céline, Bertolt Brecht, Jean Genet—are more common. When Philip Roth (1933–2018) helped a mourner throw ceremonial dirt into a grave, the stumbling man ungratefully said it was the only “known act of kindness in Roth’s life.”
Read Full Article »
