I don't have time to read popular fiction. I'm too busy with work.' Secretaries, he thought acidly, read that junk, at home in bed at night. It stimulates them. Instead of the real thing. Which they're afraid of. But of course really crave.
The protagonist reflects on the busy lives of others who choose popular fiction over substantial literature. He views this preference as a sign of superficiality, suggesting that individuals are too preoccupied with their daily responsibilities to engage with more profound works. This thought is tinged with contempt towards those he believes settle for less intellectually stimulating material.
He believes that such choices reveal a deeper craving for meaningful connection and understanding,...
