“I have always wondered at the passion many people have to meet the celebrated. The prestige you acquire by being able to tell your friends that you know famous men proves only that you are yourself of small account.”

—W. Somerset Maugham

Maugham displays an intelligence so willing to observe the worst that I cannot imagine liking him. Or rather I can’t imagine him liking me. And, yes, I do often create imaginary friendships with writers, friendships in which I thank them for their work, flatter them up a bit, ask for advice or clarification. But despite Maugham’s tough-mindedness, I have read him at length and with pleasure. The position he takes here seems unassailable. Even though I have never been able to keep myself from seeking the company of celebrities. Sometimes I drop their names. Each time I do this, I add another proof to Maugham’s hypothesis.  

Sorry, comments are closed for this post.