"The Hard, Gem-like Flame" is Flickering by Jude Hopkins, 10/5/25

One thing I've learned from social media: Just because I wrote a book doesn't mean everyone else wants to write a book—or will write a book.

Nor do they want to be reminded of the fact that they have no interest in becoming a artist, selling a song, or performing on Broadway.

They're happy the way they are. Or seemingly happy. If we believe the message of Edgar Guest's doggerel below, that's the way of the world.

And inasmuch as most people don't want to be told to act upon their dreams, they also don't want to be told to read better books to inspire them to fulfill those dreams.

When I say "good" books, “good” being relative, I essentially mean those books that have been around long enough to have been deemed worthwhile in terms of what they say and how they say it, and have provided proven benefits in terms of developing people’s perspectives, understanding and compassion for others, regardless of race, religion, creed, or gender.

Not to mention, as previously stated, providing inspiration.

But such words don't mean much to the majority of folks. As the great literary critic Northrup Frye once wrote in his book The Educated Imagination, "A person who knows nothing about literature may be an ignoramus, but many people don't mind being that."

Now before people accuse me of being mean by repeating such a quotation, the term originally came from Latin meaning "we take no notice of" (https://www.etymonline.com/word/ignoramus). Only later did it take on the negative connotation of an insult. Either way, good ol' Northrup implies that people don't care if they're deemed an ignoramus in literature, insult or not. It's simply not important to them. They take no notice.

OK, OK, I get it: You can't force them to read a book, let alone write one.

The book pictured above, The Genteel Tradition and the Sacred Rage by Robert Dawidoff, said such an attitude is to be expected in a democracy. "There are too many people, too many apparent differences, too many stories in the naked city of democracy," the author writes.

"The degree to which the mind and art are in fact what human beings have to explain, picture, order, organize, and change their world sometimes becomes irrelevant in a democracy, whose principle of equality makes individual desires abound but which seems to subvert the necessary ordering of values."

If you are one of those restless few looking for creative expression beyond the conventions of work, marriage and family, no one should object, the author implies. We're a democracy; we should all get along and accept one another just as we are, blessed or cursed with varying degrees of ambition.

And inasmuch as we who expect more of our creative selves shouldn't look down on the happy majority, so should the latter allow us our desire to go beyond without criticizing or disdaining. "Happy American people should live their lives, cherish their luck, and not deprive those who need it of the consolation of higher things," he writes. A happy democracy.

A look at the library card for the book mentioned above shows that no one ever checked it out, helping to put a point to my point!

I’ve hammered on aspiration vs. execution in many a social media post—and on my blog. A recent study in Psychology Today says that 92 percent of people never fulfill their dreams. Other research puts it even lower, showing that only 1 to 2 percent achieve their goals. Reasons for this vary from people having no plan, harboring a fear of failing, giving up too soon, and/or choosing comfort over growth. Perhaps because I've seen it happen too often, i.e., hear people talk about their dreams, then give them up for various reasons, I'm especially sensitive to this all-too-often occurrence. I'm always inspired by fellow aspirants —and crushed when they give up.

It was a punch in the gut to learn that most people just wish to be left alone, not to be nagged or reminded they coulda been a contender (to quote Marlon Brando in On the Waterfront). I realized any motivation I had imparted as a teacher could largely be attributed to the desire on students' part to get an "A." (The exceptions? The self-motivated that can't or won't be stopped.) So I’ve been ruined by that, thinking my occasional inspirational teaching was behind their hard work and good grades. Nope. (Although one former student emailed me recently to say every time she picks up a book to read, she thinks of me. That meant so much.)

I learned from reading the above book that I can’t expect such high-falutin’ goals in a democracy, where so many voices and sensibilities exist together.

The solution for those who feel the need to be inspired and fulfill goals beyond the conventional? Know that you are there (as an individual) but see yourself as a part of the larger crowd, Dawidoff says.

Nevertheless, I will always feel that if more people aspire and work on fulfilling their dreams or even understood and appreciated great books that deal with the human condition, the better off we as a people would be. Besides being inspirational, these books deal with the joys and tribulations we all share in ways that are memorable and moving as opposed to some of the shallow “entertainment” reading many Americans prefer—not to mention the inanity of what's on the internet. And it's clear that many people feel empty, alone, frustrated today. Look at the consequences. Every week there's more shootings, more chaos, more dissension. What if people actually dealt with these feelings in a positive, productive way?

The great novelist Graham Greene once wrote this:

But, as the Magic 8 Ball says in trying to inspire others to read Henry James or Dostoevsky or Hemingway or Updike or any of the other so-called “classic” writers, “Outlook Not So Good.” Same goes for having the resolve and persistence to accomplish a goal.

Alas, the hill is steep. Even those who do aspire, such as those seeking degrees in literature, need to be trained in how to read longer novels, according to The Times of London. Education Editor Nicola Woolcock writes, "Academics said students in the last five to ten years, who have grown up with phones in their pockets, can be intimidated by reading long, older or more difficult books ... ."

How about teaching them how to enjoy the challenge of such books instead of characterizing reading as hard work and drudgery? Methinks it's too late, sadly. I'm tired of hearing about how comfort and pleasure now take the place of challenge. When did the world get so soft?

From The Times (London)

I have to remember the counterargument. “Democracy opposes your distinction,” Dallidoff writes. “Self-realization is a democratic delusion.” Equality is emphasized instead. That’s the trade-off. And it’s an important one, especially these days.

The book by Dawidoff was one of the used books I ordered from a library discard sale. No one had ever checked it out, according to the card in the back. Point taken.

Now I'm going to mix with the larger crowd and watch some football. But after that, I will be reading and working on my second book. I'm still burning with the hard, gem-like flame and want more out of life, even though I'm now acutely aware that most are perfectly content not striving to be someone upon whom nothing is lost.