Citati iz knjige „Stet“ autora Diana Athill

All publishing was run by many badly-paid women and a few much better-paid men: an imbalance that women were, of course, aware of, but which they seemed to take for granted.
I believe the use of ‘f—’ was suggested; but ‘fuck’ and ‘fucking’ occurred so often that this would have made the dialogue look like fish-net, so ‘fug’ and ‘fugging’ were agreed as substitutes.
All this book is, is the story of one old ex-editor who imagines that she will feel a little less dead if a few people read it.
is impossible for someone of great natural charm to remain unaware of the effect he or she has on others, which makes the gift a dangerous one: the ability to get away with murder demands to be exploited, and over-exploited charm can be less attractive than charmlessness
is natural that a writer who knows himself to be good and who is regularly confirmed in that opinion by critical comment should expect to become a best-seller, but every publisher knows that you don’t necessarily become a best-seller by writing well.
although I never went so far as to choose to do nothing, I did find it almost impossible to do anything I didn’t want to do
Here we settled down to enjoy the sixties which were, indeed, good years for us; although they never seemed to me essentially different from any other decade. Perhaps they would have done if I had been younger and still fully responsive to the pull of fashion, but as it was I saw them as an invention of the media. Most of the people I knew had been bedding each other for years without calling it a sexual revolution
I believe that the yeast of intelligence will continue to operate one way or another.
Caste standards – it ought not to need saying – have no right to be considered sacrosanct.
It is not, after all, a new development: quick and easy has always been what the majority wants.
It is, of course, true that reading is going the same way as eating, the greatest demand being for the quick and easy, and for the simple, instantly recognizable flavours such as sugar and vinegar, or their mental equivalents; but that is not the terminal tragedy which it sometimes seems to the disgruntled old.
one feels almost regretful on recognizing exceptionally congenial qualities in a newly met person, because one knows one no longer has the energy to clear an adequate space for them.
There was, indeed, nothing she didn’t know about her tribe’s concept of good behaviour, in all its gallantry, absurdity and cruelty.
Good Behaviour, on the other hand, had insisted on being written. She described it as a book that ‘truly interested and involved’ her:
I KNOW THAT I have sometimes been described as ‘one of the best editors in London’, and I can’t deny that it has given me pleasure; but I also know how little I had to do to earn this reputation beyond routine work and being agreeable to interesting people.
He was pursuing his own understanding of the place, and offering it, because that is what a serious writer can’t help doing. If anyone resented it, too bad.
to describe what he saw honestly, even if honesty seemed brutal.
Vidia’s self – his very being – was his writing: a great gift, but all he had.
someone who feels he doesn’t belong to his ‘home’ and cannot belong anywhere else is forced to exist only in himself;
Between me and the truth of his Oxford experience stood the man he wanted people to see.
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