Graeme Hunter on Grave Entertainments
I am nearly fifty now and my older friends are starting to die. As when a few dry leaves blow around your feet and you suddenly realize the autumn season is upon you, so I find myself unexpectedly beginning the season of funerals. Unfortunately, I am not adjusting to it very well.
Do not misunderstand me. I have no objections to a few rehearsals before being myself the guest of honor. Neither is fear of dying the biggest issue so far. What worries me now is how even in death vulgarity intrudes. Even our farewell to the world, it seems, must be taken without much dignity or intelligence.
I am not speaking of those who choose to go into the underworld defiantly, like Don Juan, o . . .
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