Lysenkoism: A Forlorn Attempt Not Merely To

Deep Assignments Run Through All Our Lives; There Are No Coincidences.

When The Modern Movement Began, Starting Perhaps With The Paintings Of Manet And The Poetry Of Baudelaire And Rimbaud, What Distinguished The Modern Movement Was The Enormous Honesty That Writers, Painters And Playwrights Displayed About Themselves. The Bourgeois Novel Flinches From Such Notions.

We Live In A World Ruled By Fictions Of Every Kind - Mass Merchandising, Advertising, Politics Conducted As A Branch Of Advertising, The Instant Translation Of Science And Technology Into Popular Imagery, The Increasing Blurring And Intermingling Of Identities Within The Realm Of Consumer Goods, The Preempting Of Any Free Or Original Imaginative Response To Experience By The Television Screen. We Live Inside An Enormous Novel.

Electronic Aids, Particularly Domestic Computers, Will Help The Inner Migration, The Opting Out Of Reality. Reality Is No Longer Going To Be The Stuff Out There, But The Stuff Inside Your Head. It's Going To Be Commercial And Nasty At The Same Time.

I Came To Live In Shepperton In 1960. I Thought: The Future Isn't In The Metropolitan Areas Of London. I Want To Go Out To The New Suburbs, Near The Film Studios. This Was The England I Wanted To Write About, Because This Was The New World That Was Emerging.