Buddha

"...When she came to our house to pick up Dad to drive him to the Writer's Circle, she always ran up to my bedroom first thing to sneer at my pictures of Marc Bolan. 'What are you reading ? Show me your new books!' she'd demand. And once, 'Why ever do you like Kerouac, you poor virgin ? Do you know that brilliant remark Truman Capote made about him ?'

'No.'

'He said, "It's not writing, it's typing !"'

'But Eva –'

To teach her a lesson I read her the last pages of On the Road. 'Good defence !' she cried, but murmured – she always had to have the last word : ' The cruellest thing you can do to Kerouac is reread him at thirty-eight.' Leaving, she opened her goody bag, as she called it. 'Here's something else to read.' It was Candide. 'I'll ring you next Saturday to test you on it!'..."

The Buddha of Suburdia, Hanif Kureishi