Philosopher's Holiday [antikvár]

Apology for Not Writing An Autobiography ' i 'here are many good reasons for writing autobiography JL these days, or there are many good reasons alleged. Everybody has been something: an infantry officer, a foxhunting man, a prisoner, a prison-warden, an author, a publisher, a President, a President's wife, a foreign correspondent, a prep school boy, a baby. One enterprising baby of my acquaintance has already arranged to pubhsh his memoirs in co-operation with a famous psycho-analyst as soon as each of them has learned to write inteUigible Enghsh. Perhaps the most important autobiography of our era would be the Personal History of a Nobody-at-all. For have we not been repeatedly informed by competent social critics that our age is one of impotent nobodies hurtling toward nothingness? Would not the Personal History of a Nobody-at-all be accurately hailed by discerning critics as the most characteristic summary of our epoch? I had thought of writing such a book. But, in the first place, I have been assured that there are already dozens of volumes, pubhshed imder titles less candid, which exactly fiU that niche. And, after aU, I am