I must admit that I am tired of hearing about Jeffrey Epstein. I understand the trauma which continues to affect his victims, but will be surprised if the current push to release more information will give them the closure they want and deserve. I don’t know if there was a sign-in sheet for his island visitors, or a “client list” (whatever that means), or a little black book. I take it for granted that a lot of well known people visited the island, and that there were many underage girls there. I don’t assume that their age was pointed out to those who were Epstein’s guests, or obvious to an onlooker.

I assume Epstein and Maxwell did some terrible things. Epstein is dead (I really don’t care if he committed suicide or not). And Maxwell? I am sure she will come to no good eventually, and Trump’s treatment of her is just one more example of “Trump being Trump”.

If there was any evidence, or if there was even any hint of evidence, that Trump participated in any illegal or even immoral activity with any underage women, I would feel very different. But I have not heard anything of Epstein’s victims accuse anyone, much less Trump, but Epstein and Maxwell of bad acts. Perhaps, at this morning’s scheduled press conference, someone will say something about someone. But I doubt it.

To me, of all of the distractions that Trump and his sycophants throw around to keep our minds off the horrible things happening in this country, the Epstein distraction is the biggest and the most unnecessary.

I just read Thomas Mann’s Death in Venice. I probably have read it before, but honestly don’t remember. I did see one of the films made of this short book. I knew the simple story line before I began to read.

Death in Venice is a shocking book, I think, more so in light of the Epstein scandal. Our “hero”, Gustav von Aschenbach is a middle aged writer whose wife has died. He needs to get away and decompress and chooses to go to Venice, where he has been before. He stays in a small, upscale hotel on the Venice Lido. A wealthy Polish family with four children is also staying there. One of the children is a presumably very attractive 14 year old boy, and Aschenbach falls in love.

For a month or more, Gustav stalks young Tadziu (or is it Wladziu?). He spends days watching him on the beach, in the hotel dining room, everywhere. He describes him in god-like terms. He never approaches him. Their eyes sometimes lock. Now and then, there might be a smile.

This goes on a month or more, the Polish family gets ready to leave, Gustav dies sitting under an umbrella at the beach.

That’s the story. The boy was 14. When he wrote the story, Mann was about 35.

But it isn’t the entire story. Apparently, Mann had taken a trip similar to the one Aschenbach took. Well, not altogether similar. Mann was accompanied by his very much alive wife, and young daughter. But he did see a Tadziu. And he wrote this story based on a real person, a real experience.

Yes, there are many differences between Mann’s story and Epstein’s. Aschenbach was not wealthy, was very shy, took no action (other than stalking), and wrote about it. Aschenbach, by the way, did not regret his feelings. He regretted not being strong enough to take any action. Aschenbach wished he was Epstein.

It does show that Epstein’s obsession with young bodies (of any or all genders) is not limited to Epstein. Of course, we all know that. This is why the child pornography industry is so pervasive. This is why, in some societies, at some times, these activities would be looked at as normal, or at least not criminal. Thomas Mann was a happily married man, they say. One wife. Six children. But not embarrassed to write this story or publish this book.

Jeffrey Epstein took his obsession in a different and more horrific direction. But nothing can be done now to repair the damage Epstein caused. Concentrating on all of this, I am sorry to say, is of interest (because this sort of thing is always of interest), but a distraction. Fiddling while Rome is burning.

And Rome, indeed, is burning.