As Michael Ignatieff sacrifices his elite panache on the alter of populism the first thing that comes to my mind is The Rocking Horse Winner by D.H. Lawrence.
A quote:
And even as he lay dead, his mother heard her brother's voice saying to her, "My God, Hester, you're eighty-odd thousand to the good, and a poor devil of a son to the bad. But, poor devil, poor devil, he's best gone out of a life where he rides his rocking-horse to find a winner."
Syncro
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