Here is the puzzle: Have you ever accused yourself of one of the lesser moral flaws or questionable values which, if you were a character in a novel or a movie, would put you on the side of the people you don’t like? I confess to a soft spot for the humorless, heartless wife in Woody Allen’s Interiors. The movie invites us to despise her lonely passion, her addiction to beautiful objects to the detriment of what matters. We agree, don’t we, that what must matter is human warmth and sympathy and not the excellence of artifact?