…present-day literary production has attained a nadir and a level of tastelessness not seen in centuries. I hope you also realize this. Nothing but kitschy and mindless pap is printed; over so many years it gets quite depressing. The writers are artless morons, and the critics are sentimental gossips. I myself cling to life in an atmosphere of envy and hatred by means of uninterrupted work. This life, the life of work, is for me the greatest pleasure imaginable.

Thomas Bernhard writing to Siegfried Unseld (via)