On romanticism

Romanticism won’t seem to get old, and hence, no need for something like a neo-romanticism to spring.

Since Wordsworth, since “flowers are red and your puckered lips are dry territories I wish to explore,” people have been mad about themselves, mad about how they feel, and mad about how they can exploit nature. And then we have Murakami today creating characters that want to know their selves by being alone in a dry well and I can affirm: romanticism did not die like Hellenism and the Victorian tradition and Jose Rizal.