Prufrock's Page

Sunday, March 18, 2007

Waiting For A New Orwell

In The Guardian, Henry Porter asks: "...where are the novelists with their indictments of government and society? Where are exposés of some unregarded part of the termite heap? Where are the dramatists who can barely speak for their anger?" Though Mr Porter grudgingly concedes that an artist's first responsibility ought to be to him- or herself, his piece seems disingenuous in that he expects writers to speak for society and adopt lofty, moralistic tones -- making the mistaken assumption that good writers have the ability to choose the material that moves them to compose.


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