Neil Simon

Many writers want to be considered great and when they are not recognised as great they wonder why. Haven't they written serious books? Don't they write good quality prose (or poetry)? Don't they deal with important matters - with issues? Yes, yes and yes in some cases. But the thing is they don't have that - what-de-yer call it? - they don't have that extra spark of something or other. Who knows what? The fact is that no one knows what it is until it is seen. You can say so-and-so has it but you can't say why; but you can say the other so-and-so hasn't and you know why. You know why but you still can't explain why.
Why is Beethoven's Emperor concerto a great piece of music while Saint-Sean's 2nd Piano concerto, for all its brilliance, is not?
In a recent article in The New Yorker, John Lahr argues that Neil Simon, playwright extraordinaire, should be regarded as "an artist" though he evidently is not.
He writes: "Simon told me recently that he doesn't feel honoured in his time. 'Only from show to show,' he said. But what do you call someone who, over half a century, has brought millions of people together to tell them bittersweet stories that shed light and laughter on the follies of his small corner of the universe? I say you call him an artist, and the hell with it."
And I call him a popular playwright.
The last five words of Lahr's give it all away. Even John Lahr doesn't believe it.
Is J.K.Rowling an artist? No. Never. Popular writer, yes, but that's it. Is Noel Coward an artist? No. A clever wordsmith yes but with nothing to say about the human condition.
Why do they fret so much over whether they qualify to be recognised by the literati as artists when they do what they do well, please a lot of people, make a lot of money sometimes? Because they don't just want to be liked or even loved, they want to be revered.