Letter: There But for Fortune
To the Editor:
Such a pity that Willem Lange’s formative years were squandered many moons ago at a rural New England boarding school whose granite ledge foundations are apparently imbued with a miraculous blend of biblical and geological majesty. Had he been born one generation later, he might have honed his prodigious writing talent at a suburban public high school built of pre-fab concrete and would now be enlightening us on the finer points of modern industrial production and the budding alienation of a post-Stakhanovite proletariat. Ultimately more edifying, I think.