Orfeo

by Richard Powers

The job of taste was to thin the insane torrent of human creativity down to manageable levels. But the job of appetite was never to be happy with taste. How many tunes did anyone need? One more. The next new one.

All my music ever wanted was to tunnel into forever through the wall of Now.

There is another world, the world in full. But it’s folded up inside this one.

He wants to tell her: Hold on to what you know right now. Let no one persuade you of a single thing. Study your hunger and how to feed it. Trust in whatever sounds twist your viscera.

You know what our problem was? When you want Perfect, even Magnificent seems shabby.