Albert,
I don't work in a cube farm, but I suspect that the 19th century "I wrote poetry last night" is the same as the housemate I had in college who proclaimed "I'm a poet," then became rather aghast when I asked to read his latest poem and he hadn't written any for two or three years--whereas I'd written one only last week and wasn't going around proclaiming myself a poet. To him, being a poet was a good excuse to wear black and hang out in the cool coffee house. That is to say, a matter of fashion.
That poetry isn't fashionable in the land of cubicles? So what? Fashions change, but I really don't see much difference between American Idol and a Victorian music hall stage. Fact is, the folk in the next cube were going home to a night of minstrels singing popular songs and standards, which do have lyrics.
Saying that the world of literature--by which you mean the printed word--is subordinate to the rest of the arts is to beg the question: In Jane Austen's day, were there no theatres? Concerts? Dances? Did everyone sit around and read and write poetry all day?
Was Abe Lincoln shot while attending one of Emily Dickinson's public and highly promoted poetry readings... Uh, wait, she was this crazy spinster who only published a handful of her poems during her life, and shut the rest up in a bureau drawer, right? And Lincoln was shot at the theatre by a popular handsome actor?
I don't buy that you have to pierce the visual--or auditory--medium to get to the written, not when Barnes and Noble has created bookstores that feel like palaces or at least luxury hotels. There's obviously a whole lot of people who still like books and still read them, and I don't think the number is getting fewer.
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