Having read a whole bunch of Thomas Mann’s stories, including the one that is considered his finest, I can hardly contain my wrath. And my scorn. But I will refrain from any criticism of the writer or his writings. That I will leave to others. I will limit myself to saying that I am overjoyed not to be a writer. Or a literary critic. Or a connoisseur of literature as an art form. Or a man of culture. Or a civilized man, for that matter. Yes, I am overjoyed to the point of rapture. Thank you, Thomas Mann! Thank you from the bottom of my heart! And thank you for ever and ever!