[Note: My philosophical friend Mr. Finiti just put this up on his website, and as usual it is pretty good. And since it seems more political than most of his stuff, I post it here in full. If you want to leave a comment, do it on his page: www.benfiniti.com.]
by Ben Finiti
Over the recent years, I have developed an interesting new hobby. (Well, I find it interesting.) I prowl through thrift stores in search of forgotten books by forgotten authors. And then I liberate them (usually for a dollar) and read them.
I pass quickly over certain types of books. For instance, I have never bought a 20th or 21st century work of fiction. In my humble opinion as an accomplished literary snob, the last great writer of fiction was Anthony Trollope. (I do not classify Orwell, Huxley, Waugh, or Koestler’s works as quite fiction.)
I do pick up curious books on subjects in which I have neither interest nor background. For instance, I just finished a book called Let’s Talk About Port, by J.C. Valente-Perfeito, published in Portugal in 1948. The author explains the varieties of port, sings (gushes, actually) its praises, and complains of how little his fellow citizens drink of it. He offers eloquent warnings about the modern scourge of cocktail-drinking, and effectively rebuts those medical cranks who claim that alcoholism is a bad thing. I had great fun reading it, and I may even try some of the stuff one of these days.
But the real goal of my pursuit is a category of books which was invented and flourished in the dreadful 20th century: the survivor’s tale of witness to the inhuman atrocities that reached such a peak (so far) in the recent past. Continue reading ‘The Forgotten Books of Witness’
Mister Moleman and his Friends 