While reading the Wall Street Journal review of journals by the English historian Hugh Trevor-Roper, I was struck by the following:
We learn in the “Wartime Journals” about the momentous day in Oxford when Trevor-Roper’s realization that he no longer needed to concern himself with metaphysics lifted a burden as surely as the mist rose from Christ Church meadow that morning . . .
Yes, exactly. The sentiment described strikes me a typifying what we’re up against. It’s not all that hard to imagine what a relief it is to decide that life has no meaning other than what we give to it. Nihilism lightens life nicely, and therein is it’s appeal in the present age.
Dear Reader,
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