If Faces Were Different When

It May Be -- I Hope It Is -- Redemption To Guess And Perhaps Perceive That The Universe, The Hell Which We See For All Its Beauty, Vastness, Majesty, Is Only Part Of A Whole Which Is Quite Unimaginable.

Latin, As We All Know, Ultimately Broke Down Into Spanish, Italian, French, And So On. One Wonders Whether There Will Be An Imperial Parallel With English Breaking Down Into, Shall We Say, North American, European, Australian, And So On. On The Other Hand, There Is This Immense, Inward-driving Influence Of Radio And Television That Is Bringing Us All Back Together. One Could Say It's A Fight Between The Two: A Fight Between Regionalism And The Standardization Through Communication.

Don't Get Me Wrong. I Have Nothing Against This As A Method, But It Is Not What English Writers Do.

One's Intelligence May March About And About A Problem, But The Solution Does Not Come Gradually Into View. One Moment It Is Not. The Next It Is There.

Maybe Half A Dozen Think They Are A Community, But, In General Terms, I Think English Writers Tend To Face Outwards, Away From Each Other, And Write In Their Own Patch, As It Were.