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July 03, 2009
The somewhat limited consolations of philosophy
Ephraim Hardcastle quotes an irate letter by Alain de Botton, cites de Botton's considerable estate and in so doing resolves my long standing jealousy of de Botton's now all too explicable success.
Writer Alain de Botton, 39, who benefits from the £200million estate of his late father, Gilbert, a financier, and (possibly as a result) is feted by literary creeps here for his 'philosophical' books, is deeply upset over a review by Caleb Crain in The New York Times of his latest work, The Pleasures And Sorrows Of Work.
He has written to Crain, who accuses him of being condescending about working people, saying: 'You have now killed my book in the United States, nothing short of that. So that's two years of work down the drain in one miserable, 900-word review.
‘I will hate you till the day I die and wish you nothing but ill will in every career move you make.'
Simmer down, baldy!
He has written to Crain, who accuses him of being condescending about working people, saying: 'You have now killed my book in the United States, nothing short of that. So that's two years of work down the drain in one miserable, 900-word review.
‘I will hate you till the day I die and wish you nothing but ill will in every career move you make.'
Simmer down, baldy!
Not that I have anything against bald philosopher-pundits, mind you. Not only was On Love: A Novel an entertaining and informative read, I think this specific instance of counter-criticism was more than justified. I just like to know some folks had a head start in life.
Posted by Ghost of a flea at July 3, 2009 08:43 AM
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