The Tedious Self-Loathing of the Literati

This article about J. M. G. Le Clézio is one of the reasons I prefer to know less about authors than about their work.  The form of specious self-loathing and the encouragement thereto is just another symptom of the postmodern plague that permeates culture.  It is one thing to confess and repudiate real sins of the past, it is another entirely to suggest that the work of Dante, Shakespeare, Michelangelo, and thousands of others is worthless because of it.  Americans tend to do the same thing in view of the enlightenment of their European brethren. I even have friends who state that the contributions of the founding fathers were essentially useless because they were tainted by slavery.

They were indeed tainted by slavery, and we should never forget it.  Nor should we ever forget that many strove, sometimes in words only, to free themselves of it.

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