The Brazilian today grows up without a shared cultural environment. He grows up not knowing, for example, what literature is. And if, by chance, he discovers it, if a miracle awakens his curiosity about it and he looks for the place where the great authors write, where the great critics are presenting and criticizing literary works, disseminating the best that has been written and is being written, he does not find it, because that place does not exist. What is good are yellowed and faded pages that can be bought second-hand. And it is very curious to note that today, even what is written about literature is not written, but talked about: the format of any literary criticism that remains, compelled by the audience, is video. Books and letters have become unpalatable. This staggering cultural failure, the cause of an even greater human failure, would never occur in a country that had at least one educated elite, because if it were truly educated, it would take it upon itself to do something for culture, to do something for the country. But no, no… the best thing now is not to instigate it at all, because the possible patron is an already existing and disgracefully distorted patron.