dominium associations, neighborhoodngroups, and other voluntarT,- associationsnthat band together to establish neighborlioodnstandards when the local constabularyncannot perform its functions.nMr. Lou- IS uneasy about the tensionsnthat exist between private securitynforces and the state; private forces, ;ifternall, operate with less training than thenpolice and with less supervision by ourncourts. Moreover, these priatcsecurit)iirrangementsnarc available onl)- to thosenwho can afford to li’e in arrangementsnapart from the poorer elements of thencommunity. The idea that more establishednmembers of the communitynmiglit have good reason to fear some ofnthe poorer elements in our society is thenkind of phenomenon that Mr, Lou v treatsnas a restilt of insufficient familiarity withnfolks who, in most significant respects,nare vet}’ mtich “like us” except that theyncannot afford the increased “isolation”n(others tend to call it “security”) thatnotablesnBuildingnIt’s always with pleasure that we comenupon a volume by Saul Bellow, for he is anwriter with talent and, more importantly,nvision, a man who can meld the quotidiannand the profound into a unified, intellectuallyncompelling narrative. With the casenoiHi?n With His Foot in His Mouth andnOther Stories ( Harper & Row; New York ),nthat pleasure is not unalloyed. As a doyennof American literature, Bellow, we shouldnthink, would engage prodigious eifort onnbehalf of what is becoming the increasinglynramshackle House of Letters, would,ntlirough his writing, work toward shoringnup the foundation of the late-20thcenturynAmerican postmodern addition.nOr, to state it more plainly, that he wouldnwrite a novel. Instead, Bellow has producedna collection of five stories, four ofnwhich, essentially, arc merely recyclednfrom the pages of periodicals. Tliis is notnto say that they are not well-turnednpieces, for they are clearly crafted, butnthe}” are pieces when we need walls. •nChronicles of Culturenwealth can pro’ide. Mr. Lou’ appears tonbelieve that wealthy members of Americannsociety actually e^ijoy paying hugensums for sophisticated securit)- devices.nHe ‘ievs’s the development of “privatengo^’ernments” as a threat to future socialnhomogeneit)’, and thus misses the mostncritical element of this trend: people arenfearful enough to employ “pri’ate goernments”nonly because they have experiencednthe consecpiences of thenfailures of the governments that theynelected.n1 he indifference that both booksndemonstrate toward criminal violencenwithin our society extends into theninternational arena. The authors ignoreninternational affairs, although they donpause to note that some nasty Americannentrepreneurs are “exporting” laborintensivenjobs to other societies, wherenlabor is something less than union-scalenexpensive. The idea that this worldnmight be populated by nations hostilentoward the vision of a peaceftil ftiturenthat these two project or, on a deepernlevel, that other nations might be animatednby religious or other impulses tonimpose some other way of Ufe upon us,ndoes not surface in either volume. Thenidea of conflict, or even competition innserious ways, appears not to have troublednthese authors in either their foreignnor their domestic observations.nThe absence of conflict and competitionnin the books indicates that thenauthors predicate their expectationsnabout the future on a very diminishednconception of the people who willlive innthose societies. The Federalist, inncontrast, is a treatise on the contributionsnthat ambition, conflict, and contentionncan make to human progress. Differentnpeople in a free society will seenopportunities for better ways of life inndifferent channels. Given that ambitionncannot be eliminated from human nature,nit is permitted to express itself in variousnwav.s—though under limited controls—nin the hope that the ambitions will serventhe interests of the whole polit)’. Virtuall)’ne’e!7 serious thinker, from .Aristotlennntlirougli Hobbes through Adam Smith toneven as mild a man as George Gilder, hasnrecognized that ambition—a desire tonmake tomorrow somehow better thanntoday—is essential to any meaningfulnhuman progress. People grow onh’nwhen the}’ are challenged.nRichard Louv recognizes that somethingnwill be lost if future generations ofnAmericans congregate in segmentednenclaves, each one suspicious of thenintentions of surrounding elements ofnthe communirv’. Tlie idea of “one nation”ncarmot sustain itself for long unless therenis some common core which is the focusnof enculturation. For Louv, “America IF’nis our current “transitional period”nbetween an older and fading industrialnage and some vague fijture “road” wherenwe find “destinations, which are not sonmuch out there as they are withinnourselves, [where] we could find ournplace and touch each other.” Such vapidncommunitarianism is simply obliviousnto the fact that when some people touchnothers they use fists.nCarohne Bird, in contrast, is writingnfor the geriatric set. The people whoninhabit her vision of the next century arencruising into comfortable retirements.nEveryone works shorter hours, doingnthe things that they like to do, and lifennever inconveniences anyone. Mrs.nBird’s future is a world that is squeakynclean, an environmentalist’s dream, withnno contact with the grubby problemsnthat arise whenever someone attemptsnto implement such visions. Mrs. Bird cannwax enthusiastic about the potential of anworld in which we get our power fromngarbage without ever considering thatnsomebody would have to confront thenbasic work of operating an incinerator.nMrs. Bird’s book is a rambling reflectionnof the world that she envisions; a worldnwhere everyone writes books despitenhaving nothing to say. She fails to addressnthe most significant questions thatnserious books about the hiture mustnultimately encounter; Where will shenfind people of such limited characternthat they would want to live in such andiminished world? [jn