We were interested in serious writing. Comic, not comical. Entertaining, not entertainment. We had no wish to claim that, because of what we read, we were better than those who read trash. We did not consider ourselves superior to our parents. We told ourselves that the things we valued in good writing - exaltation of spirit, insight into the lives and minds of others, good humour, the power to attack wrong, exposure to the the different between our own and other times, the constant challenge of high standards set by those who had gone before us - were benefits that might come to others in other ways, but our particular needs were literature, painting, music, all as parts of our daily, ordinary everyday lives, even though the rest of the world gave not a farthing for them.
Christopher Logue, Prince Charming: A Memoir, Faber & Faber, 1999.