"Who do you think has time for reading books? Isn't it enough to write about them? It's quite sufficient to read the papers. Moreover, it's our principle to slate everything."
"An absurd principle!"
"Not at all! It brings all the author's enemies and enviers on one's side—and so one's in the majority. Those who are neutral would rather see an author slated than praised. To the nobody there is something edifying and comforting in the knowledge that the road to fame is beset with thorns. Don't you think so?"
"You may be right. But the idea of playing with human destinies in this way is terrible."
"Oh! It's good for young and old; I know that, for I was persistently slated in my young days."
"But you mislead public opinion."
"The public does not want to have an opinion, it wants to satisfy its passions. If I praise your enemy you writhe like a worm and tell me that I have no judgment; if I praise your friend, you tell me that I have. Take that last piece of the Dramatic Theatre, Fatty, which has just been published in book form."
"Are you sure that it has been published?"
"I am certain of it. It's quite safe to say that there isn't enough action in it; that's a phrase the public knows well; laugh a little at the 'beautiful language'; that's good, old, disparaging praise; then attack the management for having accepted such a play and point out that the moral teaching is doubtful—a very safe thing to say about most things. But as you haven't seen the performance, say that want of room compels us to postpone our criticism of the acting. Do that, and you can't make a mistake."
"Who is the unfortunate author?" asked Falk.