I enjoyed Garrison Keillor's cranky take on the recent recipient of the Nobel Prize for literature, because—apologies to lovers of delicate prose—The Remains of the Day and Never Let Me Go both bored the shit out of me:
In their long-standing campaign against comedy, the Swedish Academy is doing almost as much damage as old man Nobel did with his hard work developing better rockets, cannon, and explosives. They are leading young writers to aspire to vacuity. I say, let the Swedes give the prize for urban planning. Let the Jews give the Nobel Prize. They know from literature. Compare a list of great Jewish writers and a list of great Swedish writers. I rest my case. Swedish literature is made up of small dark stories in which people are very silent and then it starts snowing and a dog barks and someone reaches for the aquavit.