Series: The Death of Morality--Prologue

A better part of my life has been spent hooded under the shroud of fantasy. It began with the reading of Pride and Prejudice when I was 12 years old and completely impressionable. It continued with the viewing of an adaption of the same book and with the reading of yet another Austen classic, Northanger Abbey, and all of a sudden, I found myself becoming a “Regency” junkie. I would buy, read, watch anything that was related to the Regency period and when I began running out of that material, I broadened my thirst for history by indulging in eras ranging from the Medieval all the way to the Victorian. Soon my obsession amounted to dangerous heights as I began viewing everything from that angle, refusing to face the 21st century head-on and instead adorning it in the fineries from one of these finer periods. Sweet Sixteens in my mind morphed into “Coming out balls” where everyone wore their best dresses and celebrated with their ton; modern “guys” changed into Mr.Darcys and Mr.Tilneys, charming, chivalrous, and respectful; modern “gals” (including, I) became the prototypes of heroines like Lizzy Bennet. And all this came with one core center: Innocence.

As I aged, my eyes soon started adjusting to the harsh realities of the actual modern age, where, at every step, I found myself rudely awakened from the norms of old and shoved into the beliefs of the new. And, just like the eras of past were labeled “Regency,” “Gothic,” “Victorian,” etc, this era is personally labeled by me as “Amoral.”
And so begins my journey to define this age that embraces the death of morality…