Ever since reading Hazlitt's tome of (nearly) the same title I've been thinking of how one might reasonably capture the spirit of our own age. Reading Auden along the way and thinking about his own anxious age served to keep the topic in view for this thinker. (Not that I'm entirely convinced that's what I am, but let's not go down that road for now.)
As close as I can come to any sense of the zeitgeist, it seems to me a distinctly plural age, a time for everything, and too much of everything at that. And thus, defeated, I'll let this one go.
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