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Zero stars from me for The Independent, which described Sir Salman as having "sparked controversy with some trenchant opinions of some authors widely regarded as among the finest of their generation".
Star-rating a book is not a "trenchant opinion"! Trenchant opinions are, well, trenchant: from the French, meaning cutting, sharp. They involve skill, and are not done with an abacus, nor with a blunt instrument such as Bret Easton Ellis used on David Foster Wallace a few years ago when he declared "I continue to find [him] the most tedious, overrated, tortured, pretentious writer of my generation", an earlier scandal du jour.
The best trenchant opinions make use of trenchant wit, as with Oscar Wilde's arch comment about the 18th century master of the heroic couplet: “There are several ways to dislike poetry; one is to dislike it, the other is to read Alexander Pope."
Here are some of my favourite author to author insults, witty, mostly trenchant, always wicked.
For caustic, you can't go wrong with Dorothy Parker. Here's what she said in The New Yorker about Lady Asquith: "That gifted entertainer, the Countess of Oxford and Asquith, author of The Autobiography of Margot Asquith (four volumes, neatly boxed, suitable for throwing purposes), reverts to tripe in a new book deftly entitled “Lay Sermons.”
Cited by Quote Investigator as part of the evidence proving Dorothy did not actually quip, in a review of Atlas Shrugged, "This is not a novel to be tossed aside lightly. It should be thrown with great force." Alas. It made for good telling.
Please note: our copy of the Asquith memoirs is a one-volume abridged version.
Vladimir Nabokov on Hemingway, from his book Strong Opinions: “I read him for the first time in the early ‘forties, something about bells, balls and bulls, and loathed it.”
T.S. Eliot attributed to Edgar Allan Poe “the intellect of a highly gifted person before puberty.”
(1948 Library of Congress lecture "From Poe to Valery")
“Every word she writes is a lie, including ‘and’ and ‘the’."
Mary McCarthy's judgement on Lillian Hellman, proferred during an appearance on The Dick Cavett Show, caused Hellman to sue her for libel, possibly not the wisest decision (shades of Oscar Wilde) in view of how many people came forth to testify to Hellman fabrications. Of course, it depends on what you want to get out of it. McCarthy was not wealthy and the cost of defending herself nearly ruined her, which she always suspected was the reason why the wealthy Hellman would not let go, through five long years. Only with Hellman's death was the case extinguished, if not the grudge, which I picture having been so strong as to still be lurking somewhere in the universe.
Which reminds me of Nancy Mitford's quip that Violet Trefusis's memoir Don't look round, politely deemed "unreliable" by the Times Literary Supplement, ought to have been titled Here lies Mrs Trefusis. (You can read more about Mrs.Trefusis, who never refuses, in the Books in the City post Speak, Memoir title).
A tale of two lions: George Bernard Shaw and Winston Churchill. Shaw had a play premiering and sent two tickets for the show to Churchill with a note, "Here are two tickets for my opening night. Bring a friend, if you have one". Churchill returned them, also with a note. It said, "Sorry, I'm busy that night, but I would be available for the second night, if you have one".
Quote Investigator says the jury is still out on the accuracy of this story, despite noting that it is on record that GBS, aged 94, recounted the anecdote to his doctor. You have to wonder if it were the lead-up to a jest about the uncertainties of being nearly a century old.
Katherine Mansfield had this to say about Howards End and its author, in her journal: "E.M. Forster never gets any further than warming the teapot. He's a rare fine hand at that. Feel this teapot. Is it not beautifully warm? Yes, but there ain't going to be no tea."
And to finish off, my personal favourite.
Danger, danger, Janeites! Someone's about to be outrageous about Jane Austen:
In an 1898 letter to his friend Joseph Twichell, Mark Twain confided: “I often want to criticise Jane Austen but her books madden me so that I can't conceal my frenzy from the reader. Every time I read Pride and Prejudice, I want to dig her up and beat her over the skull with her own shin-bone.”