It's hard to know really when you see an object is the beauty you see in it natural or how much have you been conditioned to favour such things.I am fascinated by the secound world war, the sheer immensity of darkness that shadowed the whole world and the tales of heroism and compassion. A few years back I read a couple of books by Ian Stewart an Irish writer who had spent the war in Germany , Piller of cloud and Redemption. They are both great books of struggle and excistentialism and trying to find meaning after such a catharism as WW2.

Both of these are great books but Stewart never got the acclaim that he deserved because he was seen as a nazi sympathiser which after reading the books I find hard to figure.To me the books spoke of a person as lost as any other person looking on a world that was beginning to admit it no longer knew itself and could not look to the past for direction since that same past had lead it to near oblivian.