Beloved Reader,
If the following discourse reads as inordinately abrupt in addressing an issue, such is my disappointment — I am left with no other recourse than but to touch upon the object of my rue in melancholy haste. This past Thursday, I was obliged to purchase a textbook for an English Literature course — however I am entirely sure this is not a singular matter — and as I perused through the highly costly text, my heart gradually plummeted until my hands carried my eyes on their palms in heartbroken ire. To believe the book esteemed as an Introduction to Literature mostly consists of 20th century writing when 500 years of literature are completely in our capacity to read! I do not understand in the least why, simply with the inclusion of Shakespeare and five or six more historic writers, the editors are pleased with their product. I can but admit it is no wonder Literature has lost its appeal for youthful ambition; with the utter neglect of the thrilling history behind the progression of our language, inspiration for delving into literature is limited. How many writers have started as young antiquaries!