H'm
I'd hazard that if you're well-known enough to become recognized as
neglected then you could be said to have made it.
Whatever 'it' is.
Status? Yoh, I'm neglected. Whoopee.
It's like an official sanction to a myth of personal suffering. Look at me:
I'm outcast. It says so in this book.
Where's my agent?
(which reminds me, Peter, I've neglected to send your cheque for those
books. 'Twill be in the post tomorrow.)
Didn't Mallarme describe death as the ultimate career move? For a poet. Or
words to that effect.
david bircumshaw
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