The scale
September 29th, 2026
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It is all about the scale. No time for a pedestrian center that presents everything but excitement. And the smaller is fine as well. Other than those two extremes, everything else is pedestrian and not worth my time. The big scale, or in the case of this book, a huge and grotesquely large scale, helps a lot — the narrative can be preachy and wooden in many parts, but the time scale here helps it be easily readable. And that is what I like. It has to be large and encompassing, or tiny and minute. It has to be concentrated on one thing and in-depth for all the aspects of the minutiae. Or it has to cram into the narrative all that is possible, or not possible but wholly imagined. The large scale doesn't have to be about time; it could be about a singular event, but covered from all the angles and viewpoints. The small scale could be stretched over many years, but with unending focus on one thing or event. And then, the mushy middle… It can be readable and informative, but that is not good enough for me. I no longer want easy knowledge of many things. There is a place for a popular middle-of-the-road narrative, but I want more. And I’ve become very discerning about it. If I don't see the scale of any of the extremes to my liking, I move on without a second thought. And that goes not just for reading — I see the same with my appreciation of music and visual arts. I no longer want to know everything, or at least a little part of everything, but only that which arrests my attention and gives me more than a mere pleasure from the experience. And as I get older, it becomes easier to know one from the other.
