'I don't know about her features,' a very discerning observer had answered, 'but she carries her head like a pretty woman!'-- Henry James, the beginning of The Europeans
The
Anthony Head Sharon Maughan commercials for Taster’s Choice arguably embodied
something more than cosmopolitan chemistry making generic coffee seem upscale
and understated with chic. The subtle romance was also about a culture imbued
with the optimism of second chances, a cultural mode still able to believe in
itself, capable of offering a rewarding life for those who took chances and
still strove. We need that sense of the enchanting in delayed anticipation,
quite a stark contrast from the David
Whele
of the boldly crass Syfy’s Dominion, believing in his own entitlement because
he survived a savage destruction of the Las Vegas he knew as a televangelist. Although
I am not a consumer of romances in the generic sense of the term, I followed
the serialized story with the same delight as the audiences who watched commercial
television, and it is a rare moment indeed where I would find consummation between
elegant people to be beautiful. One might have believed it here. Pubic hairs
dyed wheat blond, nails lacquered to reflect a casual and intimate dinner; whatever
the tensions reflected in 21st century dystopias, even someone such
as I can mourn the loss of the magical embedded in our senses. Everyone’s busy pontificating.
Pleasure in the world around us seems to have gone the way of Reagan’s state
funeral, with Nancy’s privileges sorely tested by Joe Plumber’s unwillingness
to offer her the appropriate deference due to a former first lady. Should our
fairytales be so grim?
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