And he hasn't even read a book of hers. But he's convinced she writes sappy stories about women's sufferings. And that in a gushing review of Wuthering Heights. There's only so much stupid, ignorant and ironic I can take in one sitting. I told him he needs to read some of her work first and he said "Oh please, of course they're sappy stuff. What else is there? Go on, enlighten me..." So I did. I hope that shuts him right up.
It's a 22-year-old guy whose favourites shelf features Charles Bukowski, Walt Whitman and J. D. Salinger.
(It's all in Bulgarian though so no use linking it.)