It's a magical world

And the stuff I've read mires down with vicious observations of the nastiest parts of humanity, mockery of anyone that doesn't fit into what the author thinks of as valuable, morbid attention to any emotional dissonance, an obnoxious obsession with the emotional landscape of the white-middle-class-dissaffected-American and what of it could be called "playfulness" is either the kind demonstrated by the people who made my young life miserable, or set up purely to make sure the Thing That's Going To Happen is more tragic or Hearttugging, and is thus obnoxiously manipulative to me.

But some people don't like Beethoven. So, you know. (Which is to say that nobody is obliged to share my distaste, nor my reading; the statement is just drawn from my experience.)