This is mostly a literary blog, poetry, selections from novels and non-fiction. I have been reading a lot of literature about Nazism and Totalitarianism lately, including A Century of Horrors, Secondhand Time, and rereading Hope Abandoned. This was a very illuminating process. The stultifying political correctness of today, the offhand denigration of the capitalist democracy that supports us all, masks a kind of group think that Orwell would recognize and chide us for. We don’t see through it–the deadening of individual thought this self censorship promotes in the service of inclusiveness, identity politics, diversity.
What this reading reminds me of most of all is the importance of the sweet, individual moments of the everyday–the way the roses, despite the shade I’ve imposed on them, continue to reach for the light and bloom, the colorful mix of eggs in the nesting box so that I can almost tell which chicken each came from, the delight of my grandson in splashing water and slime. This is the soil in which our human spirt grows. This, and the wit of my lifetime partner, who on seeing this smallest egg commented:
“Do you think that hen has reached the age of consent?”