". . . I saw, to my horror, an artfully worn, older-than-me copy of ‘Proust’ by Samuel Beckett.” That, Burroughs claims, was a deal breaker. “If there existed a more hackneyed, achingly obvious method of telegraphing one’s education, literary standards and general intelligence, I couldn’t imagine it.”
From Paper Cuts, a blog about books:
". . . Suffice it to say that for those of us cursed with literary interests — and no small amount of intellectual snobbery — taste in books can have a limiting effect on our romantic lives. It’s hard enough to find someone compatible based on the basics — looks, brains, interests, morals — without upping the ante with taste in books. Therein lies madness. Or maybe clarity. 'There are certain quagmires to be avoided with people,' Norman Rush wrote in 'Mating.' 'You can find yourself liking someone who appears intellectually normal and then have him let drop that his favorite book of all time is "The Prophet."' Touché, Mr. Rush, touché. Has anyone else faced this problem?
What are your literary dealbreakers — or literary deal-sealers?"