I like Swift – he seems my kind of fellow – forever attacking the po-faced quack fakery of others with that most potent and, seemingly, inflammatory of weapons: – ridicule.
Here’s what one John Partridge had to say of him, with phraseology which – accepting the greater decorum of the c18th – sounded strikingly familiar:
the same villian told the world I was dead, and how I died … I thank God … that I am still alive, and (excepting my age) as well as ever I was in my Life … And that paper was said to be done by one Bickerstaffe, Esq., but that was a sham-name; it was done by an impudent lying fellow.
[I’m afraid, due to my last computer capsizing and there being little time to save what was on board, I no longer have the original “anonymous c**t” reference, so you will have to make do with “illiterate philistine” instead.]
Actually, that quote from Yu Dafu in the linked article reminded me of the following important epigram I wrote on the subject of masturbation and its place in judging literary works:
Did Leo Tolstoy masturbate?
Is that what makes his works so great?
For a full discussion of the inter-relation between masturbation and literary creation, you will have to wait for my forthcoming monograph on the subject.