Now, Fifty Shad…

Now, Fifty Shades is high-quality literature, for it meets the standards of the Industry; and so is The Da Vinci Code, and so is Mein Kampf, and so is Shore Thing by Snooki: for they all have the seal of Industry approval — a real live publisher’s colophon! On the other hand, The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn is not literature, but a vile, inferior, self-published product. It was published by the author, the reprobate Samuel Clemens, under the transparently phony name of Charles L. Webster And Company. Webster was Clemens’ nephew by marriage, and did not know as much as a cow: Clemens told us so himself, in his autobiography. The company was established by Clemens to publish Clemens’ books and nobody else’s; it was therefore a perfect example of a self-publishing concern, and as such, lacked the processes that we count on to ensure a minimal level of quality, both of content and style. To support me in this assessment I appeal to the collective wisdom and judgement of the professors of English and American literature. They will agree, in the main, that whatever quality Huckleberry Finn possesses, it is not minimal.

Told by an idiot, No. 6

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