On this snowy morning, rather than spend my time out frolicking with the Rescuepoo in the drifts (which I promise I'll do in a few minutes, really, Dog... try and be patient!) I feel compelled to enter into the ridiculous fray surrounding what may be the most unlikely literary pairing I've heard in a long time -- Elizabeth Gilbert and Philip Roth.
There's a WONDERFUL essay in the New Yorker by Avi Steinberg, concerning the dust up, which you really should read if you're interested in writing and/or writers at all. It is wise beyond it's pages. I read it this morning and by, gosh, it got me thinking.
Steinberg tells us this literary kerfuffle began when author Julian Tepper wrote a piece in the Paris Review about an encounter he had with his literary hero, Philip Roth, in which Tepper presented him with a copy of his first novel, entitled "Balls". Roth congratulated him and then advised him, for the sake of his sanity, to get out of the writing business as fast as he could.
“I would quit while you’re ahead. Really, it’s an awful field. Just torture. Awful. You write and write, and you have to throw almost all of it away because it’s not any good. I would say just stop now. You don’t want to do this to yourself. That’s my advice to you.”
Professionally-upbeat author Elizabeth Gilbert took umbrage with this and wrote a piece declaring writing to be a "f*cking great job." She goes on, and I quote Steinberg here, "This is a classified piece of information, she claims, kept secret by vain, jealous older writers."TO READ THE REST OF THIS POST, PLEASE CLICK HERE.