Item 04: G. O. Hawkins letters to his family, 2 January 1915-November 1917 - Page 82
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[Page 82]
2
Round this centre of comfortable warmth the soldiers would gather in nights chilly hours, and pass the time in the way of most soldiers, telling stories and singing songs.
This sounds romantic enough no doubt, but in reality the baseness of the stories and the vile quality of the songs robs it of all romance, and as with so many other scenes of human activity there remains nothing beautiful to the actual observer except the newness of the spectacular effect, largely the inhuman quantity in detail of surroundings – that which the wordless brush of the artist produces without offence.
Reality in the sum total, is offensive
Art is pleasing
Fine art after all is not the clear detailed reflection of youthful truth
It is rather, the reserve of wisdom
To you who don't have to suffer and endure the presence of