I believe I have. It's a metaphor for our times. The hero's threadbare coat no longer serves. It is patched beyond all sense. It is a bunch of threadbare rags. Finally he gives in to advice. He scrimps and scrapes and does without much and saves and saves and finally has enough for a new coat. Having the funds he grows in confidence. A small pay rise at work. And then the glorious new coat made to measure . But soon the new coat is thrown on the floor by another who is jealous. Then it is stolen. He seeks for the coat in vain. It is hopeless. Winter comes. He has no coat and he dies. But his ghost or spirit haunts the town. Other coats are ripped from people's backs. A grim situation. Things can only deteriorate.
Indeed. CleverGwil.
ReplyDeleteThanks Pat. For more on this one, suggested reading is Nikolai Gogol's short story The Overcoat.
ReplyDeleteYou have written here before about the story of the overcoat believe.
ReplyDeleteI believe I have. It's a metaphor for our times. The hero's threadbare coat no longer serves. It is patched beyond all sense. It is a bunch of threadbare rags. Finally he gives in to advice. He scrimps and scrapes and does without much and saves and saves and finally has enough for a new coat. Having the funds he grows in confidence. A small pay rise at work. And then the glorious new coat made to measure . But soon the new coat is thrown on the floor by another who is jealous. Then it is stolen. He seeks for the coat in vain. It is hopeless. Winter comes. He has no coat and he dies. But his ghost or spirit haunts the town. Other coats are ripped from people's backs. A grim situation. Things can only deteriorate.
ReplyDeletewonderful - almost an infinity of wisdom
ReplyDeleteThank you Gerald.
ReplyDelete