Thursday, 14 July 2011

The Hollow Man

As I said yesterday, I feel sorry for Rupert Murdoch, despite his reputation and the deeds done on his behalf. His addiction to wealth and power is something to be pitied, I think. It seems to me that it is a result of his being a one-dimensional man.

I came to this conclusion after listening to TM Fitzgerald talking about working with Murdoch in the early days of the Australian. Fitzgerald recalled how, whenever he turned to the arts section of the paper, Murdoch's expression would grow puzzled and sad. Scratching his head, he would  stare down at the columns of writing. What was it that made people interested in novels and plays and music? He was baffled, but he was also eager to learn how he could join in the fun.

But it wasn't explainable. Somehow some connection was missing. The pleasures of the arts were closed to Rupert Murdoch, according to Fitzgerald. Which might not have mattered, had he not recognised the problem and regretted that it was so.

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