The Magic Mountain is turning into a war of ideas between Settembrini and Naptha. The open philosophising of the two, with Hans Castorp and his cousin caught between them, seems an extremely clumsy way of exploring these concerns, but the ideas are so obviously alive for Mann that this reader just surrenders to the thrill of the debate. Part of the thrill is the sense that the writer is capable of investing himself in the full range of what is under view without necessarily surrendering to a single ideology. His world is complex, plural, idiosyncratic, as I hope mine is. Indeed, all our worlds.
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