Other people are wrong

"[T]he blogosphere, that underground realm of steaming ressentiment" says gorgeous, pouting James Wood.

Today I read Morris Dickstein's review of a book - that book - about Bernard Malamud. He tells us that:

In interviews and occasional lectures, [Malamud] adamantly shielded his private life, though he sometimes exposed it in his fiction, with unfortunate results in the autobiographical novel Dubin’s Lives.

Wuh? But it's not unfortunate. It's a terrific book! Perhaps his best. I must read them all. But then again, the consensus does tend to contradict my discerning judgement. It thinks Austerlitz is Sebald's best book. It thinks Correction is Thomas Bernhard's. I think the exact opposite. These are their least best.

Any other gross critical contradictions out there?