Commentary
A celebrity, a friend of mine once said to me, was someone of whom he had never heard. My friend lives a little like a hermit in retreat from the modern world, but for most people, celebrities are like burglars: you don’t have to go to them, they come to you—inescapably, via all sorts of media.
I am, like my friend, indifferent to celebrities, and many of them who are household names are completely unknown to me.
Celebrity has long been the desire of many, but the idea of being recognized as you walk down the street, of having to shy away constantly from prying eyes and from people anxious to take selfies with you, fills me with horror. A French neighbor told me that he was contented though modest; I suggested that he should have said contented because modest….