AS I read David Bosworth’s splendid language, his extraordinarily balanced phrases and keen satirical wit, his lively use of striking examples coupled with enduring issues, I found that I started to ask myself, Do I know anybody like the people he describes? Do I know people who deny death, flatter the “inner child,” whose lives “are now stocked with the jingles of commerce,” and whose humane responsibilities are “increasingly purchased rather than performed”? Surely I should, since I was raised in California and now live—God forbid—in Malibu.