I started reading through this and realized despite having written in more than a year ago, it’s just as true now as it was then. Somehow, I would have hoped we’d have … oh, I don’t know. Impeached Trump? Convicted a few of his more toxic adherents? Something, anyhow. But here we are, essentially right where we were a year ago last November.
How — why — they dressed and spoke and related to each other as people in their society. We are fuzzy about a lot of cultural material and mostly, we take our best guess as to what they were thinking as they lived from one day to the next in whatever capacity they lived it.
We have no clue about how our great-grandfather confessed his love to great-grandmother. We don’t know the words they used, or their tone of voice. We don’t know if their moment of passion happened at all. We don’t know because they left no evidence for us. They spoke differently, yet surely they held the same emotions we do — and we base all our fiction on that assumption. But of course, we…
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