No time to read
Sir: The only time I ever met Auberon Waugh was during the celebrated libel case between Peregrine Worsthorne and Andrew Neil, when I was in the piquant position, as co-suee with Sir Peregrine, of being taken to court by my own editor.
Waugh, who attended each day's hearing, was rather nice to me and urged me to join his obscure club in Beak Street — an invita- tion which, sadly, I was never to take up.
Now he accuses me (And another thing, 5 February) of daring to review a book by Susan Crosland without having read it. `After eight years as editor of the Literary Review,' he writes, 'I feel I have developed an ability to distinguish reviewers who have actually read the book from those who are bluffing. I would be surprised if Ellis had read much more than the two press-cut- tings (to which he has previously referred).'
Alas, I was not writing a review. I was writing an instant commentary for the Times on romans a clef. I did not need to read the Crosland book, even if I had had the time, but merely scanned it for information.
Waugh refers, incidentally, to the fact that I write 'in the knowing style one associ- ates with the Sunday Times'. Can this be the same Sunday Times for which his 'old and highly respected friend', Ms Crosland, wrote a weekly column (presumably in a knowing style) for at least three years?
Walter S. Ellis
134c Coleraine Road, London SE3
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