On the state of literature:

William Boyd in writing a review of William Trevor's Cheating at Canasta has this to say:

The essence of the Chekhovian story, and of the Chekhovian worldview, is that, as he himself once wrote to a friend: “It is time writers, especially those who are artists, recognized that there is no making out anything in this world.” Chekhov refuses to judge, refuses to explain, refuses to celebrate, refuses to “make out” anything — he simply depicts life as he sees it in all its banality and tragicomedy.

Boyd explains that "Trevor is frequently cited as a type of Irish Chekhov: the dark, worldly, bleak nature of his stories is believed to be akin to the dark, worldly, bleak nature of Chekhov’s short fiction."

Chekhov, Boyd points out, is the preeminent influence on letters over the past 100 years, and he is probably correct. Joyce may have captivated the critics, but it is Chekhov to whom young writers inevitably turn if they are serious in pursuing literature as art.

And this may explain why the reading of literature has fallen to an all time low. Reading is a habit that must be developed in youth, and it is rare that a young person will be captivated by a vision of the world that is Chekhovian.