Environmental aesthetics has become a matter of concern to many different groups in recent years—to conservationists, to legislators, reluctantly to industrialists, and indeed to the public at large. This interest seems to have a clear purpose. It is regarded as an effort, belated and desperate, to save the resources and beauties of our natural world from the possibility of complete and irrecoverable exploitation, and from the disfigurement and loss that must follow. It is an attempt to change the atmosphere from a toxic medium that is often impossible to escape back to one that is fresh and invigorating. It is a proposal to rebuild our cities before they become unredeemable wastelands of physical and social decay.

Anthropocentrism was born with Man, and certain primitive tribes or ethnic groups considered themselves the center of the world. Their members assumed the generic name “the Men,” and all the rest, including other, tribes or ethnic groups, were part of a more or less hostile environment (to use the modern term).

The world food economy has undergone a basic transformation during the seventies. Not only did the world have surplus stocks and excess production capacity at the beginning of the decade, but it also appeared that both would be around for a long time to come. Suddenly in 1972 and 1973, they disappeared and the whole world was trying to make it from one harvest to the next. During the mid-seventies global food insecurity was greater than at any time since the war-torn years immediately following World War II.

Games, festivals, folklore, a derivation of them, and artistic expression are manifestations of symbolic invention. To compare them is to bring out the differences in the order of the symbolic production and have, as a consequence, a differentiated perception of the way they function. It is also to put them into a perspective of filial relationship. In fact, a genealogy appears with the processes that regulate the passage from one to the other of these means of expression. Through the successive dissipation of structural stabilizations that are in turn play, festival and folklore, a generative order of complexity is established of which art, with its dynamics open to all expressive invention, is the end result. Finally, it is to discover at the end of the process the literary text, conceived as a work of art, surrounded by expression and preceded by it, appearing from then on according to one of the precepts of the theory of the text, as a production “of society and history” and as issuing from the social phenomenon in its entirety. “I am not only undertaking a study of a sociology of games,” wrote Roger Caillois. “My idea is to lay the foundations for a sociology beginning with games.” We would say of a sociology in which we would be permitted to glimpse the achievement of the task of explaining the entire social phenomenon itself.

Fundamentally, a ruin is a utilitarian structure which through the ravages of time or through some other circumstance has lost its utility and its function. When a useful object becomes useless, it continues to be present without a true existence, exactly as if it were dead. A torn glove, a bicycle without wheels, do not deserve to be called by their original names. It is difficult, of course, for us to resign ourselves to the fact that objects we have always thought of as useful are no longer useful; we hold on to the illusion of profiting from them as long as possible. We still make use of an abandoned automobile by stripping it of its accessories; we make use of a dilapidated house by salvaging some of its building material. However, the time comes when we must accept the evidence and admit that the object has become a burden.

It seems to me that not enough consideration has been given to the fundamental importance of the conditioning to which our physical as well as our mental being have been submitted due to the fact that they develop within a certain gravitational field. All the long evolution of the species seems to proceed from our desire for the impossible abolition of our own gravity, or at least for its partial alleviation. Many centuries before the appearance of man compensatory means were tried and adopted, ranging from the acquatic bladder to the wing and including the simple hopping of the marsupials.