Erhalten Sie Zugang zu diesem und mehr als 300000 Büchern ab EUR 5,99 monatlich.
- Herausgeber: Musaicum Books
- Kategorie: Geisteswissenschaft
- Sprache: Englisch
- Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2017
In H. G. Wells' novel 'This Misery of Boots,' the reader is taken on a journey exploring the societal impact of technology and industrialization during the late 19th century. Wells' writing style is gripping and thought-provoking, blending elements of science fiction with social commentary. The book delves into the dehumanizing effects of progress and the struggles of the working class in a rapidly changing world, highlighting the disparities between the wealthy elite and the laboring masses. As one of Wells' lesser-known works, 'This Misery of Boots' sheds light on a pivotal period in history and offers valuable insights into the human condition. H. G. Wells, a prolific writer and social critic, was deeply influenced by the Victorian era and its technological advancements. His own experiences and observations of society led him to write compelling narratives that challenged the status quo and pushed the boundaries of traditional literature. 'This Misery of Boots' reflects Wells' fascination with science and his concern for the welfare of ordinary people, making it a poignant and relevant read for modern audiences seeking to understand the roots of contemporary social issues. I highly recommend 'This Misery of Boots' to readers interested in exploring the intersection of technology, society, and class dynamics. Wells' masterful storytelling and keen insight into human nature make this novel a thought-provoking and enriching addition to any literary collection.
Sie lesen das E-Book in den Legimi-Apps auf:
Seitenzahl: 36
Das E-Book (TTS) können Sie hören im Abo „Legimi Premium” in Legimi-Apps auf:
Ähnliche
This Misery of Boots
Published by
Books
I. — THE WORLD AS BOOTS AND SUPERSTRUCTURE
IT does not do,” said a friend of mine, “to think about boots.” For my own part, I have always been particularly inclined to look at boots, and think about them. I have an odd idea that most general questions can be expressed in terms of foot-wear—which is perhaps why cobblers are often such philosophical men. Accident it may be, gave me this persuasion. A very considerable part of my childhood was spent in an underground kitchen; the window opened upon a bricked-in space, surmounted by a grating before my father’s shop window. So that, when I looked out of the window, instead of seeing—as children of a higher upbringing would do—the heads and bodies of people, I saw their under side. I got acquainted indeed with all sorts of social types as boots simply, indeed, as the soles of boots; and only subsequently, and with care, have I fitted heads, bodies, and legs to these pediments.
There would come boots and shoes (no doubt holding people) to stare at the shop, finicking, neat little women’s boots, good sorts and bad sorts, fresh and new, worn crooked in the tread, patched or needing patching; men’s boots, clumsy and fine, rubber shoes, tennis shoes, goloshes. Brown shoes I never beheld—it was before that time; but I have seen pattens. Boots used to come and commune at the window, duets that marked their emotional development by a restlessness or a kick…. But anyhow, that explains my preoccupation with boots.
But my friend did not think it did, to think about boots.
My friend was a realistic novelist, and a man from whom hope had departed. I cannot tell you how hope had gone out of his life; some subtle disease of the soul had robbed him at last of any enterprise, or belief in coming things; and he was trying to live the few declining years that lay before him in a sort of bookish comfort, among surroundings that seemed peaceful and beautiful, by not thinking of things that were painful and cruel. And we met a tramp who limped along the lane.
“Chafed heel,” I said, when we had parted from him again; “and on these pebbly byways no man goes barefooted.” My friend winced; and a little silence came between us. We were both recalling things; and then for a time, when we began to talk again, until he would have no more of it, we rehearsed the miseries of boots.
We agreed that to a very great majority of people in this country boots are constantly a source of distress, giving pain and discomfort, causing trouble, causing anxiety. We tried to present the thing in a concrete form to our own minds by hazardous statistical inventions. “At the present moment,” said I, “one person in ten in these islands is in discomfort through boots.”
My friend thought it was nearer one in five.
“In the life of a poor man or a poor man’s wife, and still more in the lives of their children, this misery of the hoot occurs and recurs—every year so many days.”
We made a sort of classification of these troubles.
There is the trouble of the new boot.
(i) They are made of some bad, un-ventilated material; and “draw the feet,” as people say.
