In Evelyn Waugh's The Loved One, there is a pet cemetery called "Happier Hunting Grounds." It's a parody of the excesses of Hollywood as well ss the futile hopes some humans maintain for an afterlife. What are the use of mausoleum's gravestones and expensive ceremonies if you've faded into nothingness? What's the use of being remembered if you no longer exist? Trust and estates fall into a similar category of hopelessness. Why would anyone want to control the behavior of their heirs when they are not here to appreciate it? Sure there are wastrels who won't benefit from misplaced largesse but at a certain point one is forced to putatively let go. You can't spare those you love from life anymore than you can allay the imminence of your own death.
read "Died Young" by Francis Levy, The Brooklyn Rail
read "An Incident of Defenestration" by Francis Levy, Vol. 1 Brooklyn
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