Never give a writer a key to your apartment. Or your office. Never let him talk to your children. If he says he wants to take a bath tell him the plumbing's knackered. If he makes for the fridge say everybody just died of food poisoning. Don't encourage him in any way. Never give him your mother's phone number. Keep him back from anything sharp. Tell him nothing you wouldn't tell your worst enemy. Hide from him in the supermarket. Avoid eye contact. Never go out to war with one; never share his drugs. And never, never kiss a writer. Never kiss one no matter what. At the hard core of American writing this century, these would appear to be the big lessons. And they all crumble down to one thing in the end: never trust a genius who even thinks he might be American.

LRB 2 April 1998 | PDF Download