Sometimes, all you need to be an asshat is a profound arrogance combined with the self-important conviction that you know better than anyone else. Better still to piss on a whole country of authors while declaring the supremacy of your own local literati. Best of all is to spout off while being on the committee in charge of passing allegedly objective judgments on the matter you’ve shown yourself to be a completly biased twit about.
Back in October, the would of literature was graced by just such an asshat, Mr. Horace Engdahl, a man who demonstrates that to be a juror for the Nobel Prize in Literature you do not need thoughtfulness, tact, self-examination, or open-mindedness. And if the work comes from the wrong continent, you may not even need to read it.