Very few writers would honestly say they'd prefer to be completely unknown (hence, unread) rather than famous - but in the past few days a remarkable media and PR campaign has sought to announce that an Irish writer, Sally Rooney , is now 'The world's most famous' young writer. And in many magazines and frontpages of major national UK newspapers over the past few days, the 'hell of fame' has been noted. It is not the author's fault that another 'hell' - that of dying or suffering in Kabul outside the airport while desperately clinging to hope - was also being mentioned, often on the same front pages. There are levels of fame, and therefore, levels of hell, no doubt. This post is not about the Irish novelist, however. We must wish her well and hope she manages to enjoy her success and keep writing: her efforts have paid off, and that is all to the good. Literary envy is a poison no one should spice their food with. Let us consider a point that many ed
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