Gallery Four

It begins in play. Confronted with an unfairness, whether real or imagined, wounded, we act to right the wrong; first in all innocence, then anger, then helplessness when justice fails. I hear Ramsay’s voice in Virginia Woolf’s To the Lighthouse—professor, philosopher, and fictional analogue—repeating a line by the 18th century poet, William Cowper: “We perish each alone.”

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