He was a tedious writer, a pedantic bore hacking away at both novelty and description, but an icon of celebrity itself, a beautiful vacuum.
Lordy, that is a sad critique. If you want tedious, try Joyce or Fitzgerald or Steinbeck.
Well, I didn't want to rain on this thread, but I tend to agree with you. I think one of the unintentionally funniest lines in all of literature is that bit in "For Whom the Bell Tolls" about the earth moving.