![]() ![]() There was the button that produced literature. There was the hot-bath button, by pressure of which a basin of (imitation) marble rose out of the floor, filled to the brim with a warm deodorized liquid. There were buttons and switches everywhere - buttons to call for food for music, for clothing. In fact, buttons are the gateway to just about anything: The Machine Stops (1909) tells the story of an underground world in which parents' duties “ cease at the moment of birth.” People live in separate rooms, similar to those of a beehive, but can connect to others at the click of a button. ![]() Forster wrote: “ What I want, I think, is the sentimental, but the sentimental reached by no easy beaten track.” The story he published only two years later, however, appears to be void of any sentimentality. In a 1905 letter to Robert Trevelyan, the author E.M. ![]()
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