He lamented that no new writers of the stature of Henry James, Edith Wharton, and Scott Fitzgerald (he tired of Hemingway early) had emerged since then in America. . . . On the other hand, he immensely enjoyed the big fat modern American novels with narrative quality, such as The Caine Mutiny, all Irwin Shaw’s best-sellers, and up to The Godfather, the last he read; the kind you “couldn’t put down.”
— Cole Lesley, Remembered Laughter: The Life of Noel Coward (1976)





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