It was what sort of signals a novel by Anne Karin Elstad sent out compared to a novel by Kerstin Ekman, and how both of these related to a collection of poetry by Lars Mikael Raattamaa, for instance. The reason why reading Peter Englund was a bit more exclusive than reading Bill Bryson, albeit not by much. The reasons why one could no longer express fascination and enthusiasm about Salman Rushdie without seeming culturally adrift, left behind in the late eighties, while V. S. Naipaul was still accepted.
