“Accordingly, while it is not expected of every age that it be capable of producing good art, it is demanded of the literary establishment of every age that it at least keep the memory and the standards of good art always before itself, well polished and clearly labeled. A literary establishment that cannot do this — which is to say, a literary establishment that does not know what art looks like — can only work with what happens to be lying around at the moment: such a community feeds only on itself, and dies as its members retire, leaving no cultural legacy.” [Bryan F. Griffin, Panic Among the Philistines (Chicago, Regnery Gateway, 1983), pp. 112-113.]
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