I recently went to see Woody Allen's new film, Midnight in Paris, which I would highly recommend. The protagonist is afflicted with “golden age thinking,” the unshakeable sensation that life would have been more satisfying if only he had lived in some ideal, bygone era. In this case Paris in the 1920s. I suppose I, and several other people I know, might be guilty of this affliction.
Lucky fella though. He manages to hop a ride at midnight every night into another decade and meets a plethora of historical figures including artists, authors and patrons. We can conclude though that this is not just a condition of our generation but existed through the ages. Yet, it is hard for us to imagine a future where anyone would idealize or long to live in this age.
So here I am, a golden age thinker, wishing that I could have witnessed the advent of Dior's New Look, Lindy Hopped at the Savoy, and watched Annie Oakley exhibit her sharp shooting skills. Paris in the 1920s as portrayed by Woody Allen is also quite appealing.
Lucky fella though. He manages to hop a ride at midnight every night into another decade and meets a plethora of historical figures including artists, authors and patrons. We can conclude though that this is not just a condition of our generation but existed through the ages. Yet, it is hard for us to imagine a future where anyone would idealize or long to live in this age.
So here I am, a golden age thinker, wishing that I could have witnessed the advent of Dior's New Look, Lindy Hopped at the Savoy, and watched Annie Oakley exhibit her sharp shooting skills. Paris in the 1920s as portrayed by Woody Allen is also quite appealing.
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