On signalling intelligence

The subtle art of cultivating an intellectual's aura.

I had just finished reading another Elmore Leonard novel. I enjoy his crime capers filled with realistic characters who are blissfully unaware of their own humour.

Elmore’s writing was succinct, yet he had a unique way of drawing you into the minds of his characters. Whether they were heroes or villains, you could grasp their thoughts and understand their logic. And his dialogue? Simply the best in the business. Unmatched to this day.

My friend Samuel noticed my latest read, Rum Punch, on the coffee table.

“Another Elmore Leonard book,” he remarked.

“That’s five in a row now,” I said.

“Five? You realise in the same amount of time, you could have tackled War and Peace or The Brothers Karamazov.”

“The Brothers who?”

“Karamazov, by Dostoevsky. It’s only the most profound piece of philosophical fiction ever written.”

“How long is it?”

“800 pages.”

“800 pages?! Oof.”

“What are you ‘oofing’ at?” he said. “That’s less than your five Elmore Leonard books.”

He had a point.

Taking his advice, I began reading The Brothers Karamazov. Every page was a slog. However, after 200 pages, I experienced a moment of enlightenment. An epiphany that shattered my very perception of reality. It felt as though God himself was speaking to me. Not in my voice. But in a divine tone.

God said, “The true sign of intellectual superiority is reading big, old, boring books, finishing them, and then pretending you enjoyed them.”

Since that revelation, I’ve nearly exhausted the classics.

Now I’m an intellectual who spends much of his free time being bored. My self-control has also improved; I can now resist the urge to hurl these hefty volumes against the wall when I finish them. Instead, upon completion, I gently set the book down on my coffee table, for all my guests to see, and then with a shaky voice, I say, “I really enjoyed that.”

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Preview photo by Prateek Katyal on Unsplash