It took a minute to see the irony of speed-reading over plant growth, but when I did, I had a profound and somewhat disembodied experience of my own latent criteria for value and narrative.
Traveler, expatriate, cosmopolite, or political exile that he was, Ghali often felt very lonely and abandoned, and his diaries describe his alienation and nostalgia.
Gaddis saw something else happening. A denouement. A decay. He writes about the decline of art into “usefulness.” Art becomes a product. It becomes therapy. It becomes sociological catalogues of oppression.