Evidently, life owes its sordidness, sadness,nand impossibility to the rarity ofnconcurring love, liberty, and sexuality.nLiberty in particular causes the young tonbe “confused and afraid, as they shouldnbe.” “To avoid the terrifying solitude ofnliberty,” they “search to find a realm ofnlife in which they can immediately belong.”nGrau sou^t love and friendshipnamong the poor, sharing their “angernand hatred against the world.” Even innold age, as he writes this memoir, henimagines “hatred of the world as it is” tonbe “the noblest emotion an adolescentncan feel.”nResentment and love of love mix easily;nthe combination is poisonous. This isnshown when Grau remembers becomingna deputy director of “Culmral Propaganda”nin Hungary’s short-livednsocialist regime of 1919. With the rathernheavy irony that totalitarianism provokes,nSennett delineates how thisnpoison causes suspicion, betrayal, andnlying, not fraternal struggle for truthnagainst shared enemies. Most insightfully,nhe has Grau write that he foolishlynne Computerized ParlornMeeting people in perst)n is always anmcss>’ business, especially tor wallflowersnand misanthropes. But high technology’nhas leaped into the breach. Indeed,n.said a primate keeper at a (Chicago /oonabout her attitude before using her homencomputer, “I was tbnder of Sinbad (tlienzoo’s 500-pound gorilla) than of mo.stnpeople I knew.” Lemuel (iulliver couldnhave appreciated the woman’s .state ofnmind. ‘I’he woman, who code-namednherself “Zebra 3” (after a stripednHouyhnhnm?), communicated to othersnacross the country through a computernprogram called “CB Similator” Throughnit she “met” a New Yorker who later said,n”I didn’t even know Zebra 3 was anwoman.” A marriage—presumably to benS8inChronicles of CulturenLiBERAL CULTUREnresisted what turned out to be a routineninquiry not only because he suspected anconspiracy but also because he wantednto assert his liberty; he did not want tonbe forced into writing an apologia.nSetinett knows that the problem of libertynwould remain even if we solved then”problems of scarcity,” economic andnemotional, which socialists believe theyncan do. Grau reflects that socialism asksnand promises too much because “nonone can give another more than permissionnto exist, and that permission entailsnall manner of mistakes, stupidities, andnwaywardness.” Evil is the denial of thisnpermission, a denial made by too manynfrustrated—and fraudulent—socialists.nThe existence Grau praises, moderately,nis not mere life; “to live is to love somethingnconcrete for itself,” he writes—nmixing Kant’s categorical imperativenwith Marx’s materialism, and hoping tonavoid the worst aspects of both.nSennett has Grau survive some 15nyears in Stalinist Russia. He gives him annelderly male lover with whom to spendnhis last years in Hungary; justifiably em-nconducted in English, not BASIC—isnplanned. While tliis mcxlern, asexualnapproach to courting is somehow disturbing,nit does have a salutary effect onntlie nation’s health. That is, how manyncruisers in singles’ bars—every night—nsay “the thing that Ls not” about the virusnknown as herjxts? Dnnnbarrassed by this bluebird finale, he hasnGrau write defensively:nI know what you will say: Grau, such anself-absorbed, unpleasant man before,nnow redeemed. You really understandnnothing. I simply have somethingnto do. This life has formed fornme those habits of small pleasuresneach day which the young would callnthe prison of old age.nThe point seems to be that the love ofnsomething (or someone) for itself isntrue liberty. It is surely closer to true libertynthan either Utopian socialism ornMarxist “realism.” But Grau overlooksnsomething: throughout, he describesnhimself as a philosopher. However, anreal philosopher, Socrates, insisted thatnloving wisdom differs from lovingnanother human being. As long as he retainsnhis wits, a philosopher always hasn”something to do.” Grau doesn’t knownthis, so he remains an intellectual, not anphilosopher at all.nWhat of Sennett? He is less elusiventhan Brautigan; I suspect that he doesnnot know the difference either.nIhe modem individualist recognizesnno authority. Yet he often finds hisnquest to satisfy mere appetites unsatisfyingnin the end. With no faith in reason ornrevelation, he can mm only to memory.nNot itself authoritative, memory cannrecreate some old authority. Rememberednauthority stands against the rapidnchanges of democracy or the equallynrapid but more brutal changes ofntotalitarianism. Brautigan’s narratornattempts to find authority in childhood,nrather like an American Rousseau.nSennett’s narrator “weeds his memoriesn… to clarify and refine his understanding,”nyielding a materialist Kantianism.nThe procedures differ, but both mennlook to the modem substitute for reasonnand revelation: sentiment. Unfortimately,nsentiment’s multifariousness equals ornexceeds that of reason, or perhaps evennthat of revelation. As a substitute fornother forms of authority, it is insufficientiynauthoritative. Dn