I am inclined to disagree with this. Some pretty great literature comes out of joy. And I don’t mind literature that’s distancing, not designed to ensare you but rather to trouble your mind. If she changed ‘the only fiction worth reading’ to ‘my favourite fiction to read’, then I’d be all over this.
I respect your challenges to this quote! I’m trying to think of great literature that comes out of joy though. Can you give me some examples. I heard Martin Amis say, (quoting someone else), alas I don’t know who: Happiness writes white, i.e. it doesn’t show up on the page. I must admit, I want to be ensnared.
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