I always liked this post of Schneeblog's, maybe
because I remember as a middle schooler being shocked that anyone could prefer
the third Harry Potter book (which is all plot twist) to the first (which is
all Things). I like Things. There are noble abstracts and linguistic thickets
and essential errands and all sorts of wonderful verbs in the world but at the
end of a long day of negligible weather and negligible phone calls I find the
concept I want to curl up with is pretty Things.
This, I think, is part of why women subscribe to catalogs.
I wrote recently here about the question of how not to
get carried away with “Torah im Cool Stuff”.
Of course, if you pursue Things long enough, you discover on
your own that the proportions are off and the story is not solid enough: that
the novel that is your life has to have a theme and a protagonist, also.
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