"Of course, unlike in the Arthurian romances, in The Waste Land no such hero appears. Perhaps, as E.M. Forster argues, the window of opportunity for heroism, for redemption, for stopping before we go hurtling off the cliff, has closed: Let me go straight to the heart of the matter, fling my poor litt"
"I recognize this is an old trope at this point, but Facebook&Co. going dark the other day reminded me of the E.M. Forster book. It's like 12,000 words. Give it a read. By now it's an extraordinarily common literary motif, but this guy wrote it in 1909, well ahead of his time."