It has become impossible in the last few years to watch television, read a periodical or book, listen to records, or attend a show without being subjected to the latest outpourings of wrath from the angry young wit of the moment. Name a taboo and he'll break it; think of any possible subject and he'll harpoon it with a few well-chosen barbs. Usually unrestricted by taste, learning, talent or sense, he is applauded by the yahoos he insults, most of whom bear the double burden of being not only tasteless themselves, but proud to admit it. (Many of the young wits of a few years ago now sound only nasty and peevish, like an annoyed book reviewer.)
Well, Mr. Michael Frayn comes equipped with the proper credentials…. This collection of essays from his column in the Guardian [Never Put Off to Gomorrah] is full of funny names …, funny people … and—what you might expect from the wittiest man now writing in English—English wit. I wish him well and hope to read him again if the day comes when an Englishman can write without trying to be so terribly witty.
William F. Gavin, in a review of "Never Put Off to Gomorrah …," in America, Vol. III, No. 1, July 4, 1964, p. 18.
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