Fictionlet
Brigid groaned as she clicked off the TV with the remote. “Geeze, I’m so sick of all this. So much stupidity. So much corruption. You just find yourself staring at the world and wondering how you can stand to get up in the morning. I’m worn out. I can’t take any more angst.”
“Not angst,” said Greg. “Ennui.”
She rolled her head back on the couch and looked over at the table where he was working. “What?”
“A deep-seated feeling of world-weariness is ennui, not angst. Angst is despair arising from doubt and frustration, as in ‘anxiety’. Angst is an emotional crisis; ennui is more of a continual state. Since you’re fed up, rather than freaking out, you don’t have angst. It’s ennui you can’t take any more of.”
She closed her eyes, as if just looking at him were wearing her out. “Thanks,” she said. “Mere words cannot express how grateful I am to you for clearing that up.”
“On the other hand,” Greg continued, “if you just felt vaguely unhappy without any discernible cause, that would be malaise.”
-The Gneech
<-- previous B&G next B&G -->
