Julian Gough, quondam writer of a short story, has been having a go at the Irish literary establishment (picked up here by The Guardian, which tries to provoke the Irish literary establishment into having a go at quondam writer of a short story, Julian Gough).
Since we violently disagree with Julian Gough in everything he says, it comes as a great pity he has the gall to use so many Obookian arguments to justify himself, viz.
I do read the odd new, young writer, and it’s usually intensely disappointing. Mostly it’s grittily realistic, slightly depressing descriptions of events that aren’t very interesting. Though, to be fair, sometimes it’s sub-Joycean, slightly depressing descriptions of events that aren’t very interesting.
I don’t believe in trends, movements, schools, and the whole German classification mania. That’s all made up after the fact, to help university libraries with their filing.