What sort of person craves oversized emotions sung in foreign languages?

The Imaginary Operagoer: A Comment Memoir

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by Dana Gioia

https://hudsonreview.com/2024/02/the-imaginary-operagoer-a-memoir

I was an only child for seven years, and my parents treated me as a young adult, especially after my brother Ted was born. I was a nocturnal child. My mother worked nights. She got home at 2 a.m. and slept till noon. I went to bed late and read until midnight. No one ever asked me to turn off the light. It was an illicit freedom no other child I knew enjoyed. When I remember the happiness of my childhood, much consists of the books I read at night. I can still recall the particular pleasures of The Time Machine, Gulliver’s Travels, The Martian Chronicles, or At the Earth’s Core.