Anti-Climacus

I had intended to write a more substantive reply to Phoebe's post on the cheapening of authorship, but as luck should have it, I came across the following passage in a book of Roberto Bolaño's essays that says it much better than I ever could:

In Chile everybody writes. I realized this one night when I was waiting to do a live television interview. A girl who had been Miss Chile, or something like that, was on before me. Maybe she'd only been Miss Santiago or Miss Burst Into Flames. Anyway, she was a tall, pretty girl, who talked with the same empty poise of all Misses. She was introduced to me. When she found out that I had been a juror for the Paula contest she said she had almost sent in a story but in the end she hadn't been able to, and that she would submit something next year. Her confidence was impressive. I hope she'll have time to type up her story for the 1999 contest. I wish her the best of luck. Sometimes the fact that everyone in the world writes can be wonderful, because you find fellow-writers everywhere, and sometimes it can be a drag because illiterate jerks strut around sporting all the defects and none of the virtues of a real writer. As Nicanor Parra said: it might be a good idea to do a little more reading.

...and at least Miss Chile wrote her own story.