This is the issue of The Golden Age in which we see the old and the new in the world, and we learn how war- and death-related affairs are not as beautiful as what is achieved through work. Who knows if the times when Father Las Casas lived were better than when the Paris Exposition took place? And who is better? Masicas, or Pilar? But in this life, there's always unfortunate ones. And the unfortunate in The Golden Age is the story about The History of the Spoon, the Fork and the Knife, which in each issue, brags and announces itself, as if being a marvel, and then there's no space for it. Which is ultimately fine, on the account of it being such a pedant and a braggart. The good deeds should be done without beckoning the universe to make oneself be seen. One's good just because; and because deep inside, one feels a certain pleasure when one has been good, or has said something useful, to others. That's better than being a prince: being useful. Children should burst into tears when the day has passed and they have not learned something new, they have not been useful.
Who knows if it's useful, who knows, the article about the Paris Exposition? But it'll happen just like with the Exposition itself, which, by being so huge, cannot be seen, complete, and the first time one leaves from there, one feels like sparks and jewels in the head. But then one can see it more slowly, and each beauty presents itself complete and clear amongst the others. It merits being read two times, and then every paragraph read on its own. And what we need to read, very carefully, is the section about the pavilions of Our America. A regret has The Golden Age: it couldn't find the banner of the pavilion from Ecuador. Sad feels the table when one of the brethren is missing!