The Prized Treasures

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  “Will the prized treasures of today always be the cheap trifles of the day before? Will rows of our willow-pattern dinner-plates be ranged above the chimneypieces of the great in the years 2000 and odd? Will the white cups with the gold rim and the beautiful gold flower inside (species unknown), that our Sarah Janes now break in sheer light-heartedness of spirit, be carefully mended, and stood upon a bracket, and dusted only by the lady of the house? . . . .   The “sampler” that the eldest daughter did at school will be spoken of as “tapestry of the Victorian era,” and be almost priceless. The blue-and-white mugs of the present-day roadside inn will be hunted up, all cracked and chipped, and sold for their weight in gold, and rich people will use them for claret cups; and travellers from Japan will buy up all the “Presents from Ramsgate,” and “Souvenirs of Margate,” that may have escaped destruction, and take them back to Jedo as ancient English curios.” Jerome K. Jerome, “T...

The Book I Love To Hate

"1984" by George Orwell is the book I love to hate.

Orwell gave us a masterpiece, pure genius as a kind of interpretation and commentary of where we were headed as a society--and we did arrive . . . not exactly a prophetic work, but we've been holding our breath since it's publication because many images are startling.

No matter how many times I've read it, I always root for Winston. I have to. For all that he symbolizes for "any man," I ache for him to win. But he never wins, and I hate that.

I'll probably read it again some day.
And perhaps I'll be hoping things change for Winston.
But they won't. And I know that.

And I hate that.

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