“It’s not really my book,” said Jupiter Peacock. “After all, who could really claim to own such a magnificent piece of beauty? In fact, ‘Galloglass’ was written between one and two thousand years ago by a man called Hieronymus Moon. I actually carry his spirit around with me in a ceramic bottle, which I can show you later, if any of you are interested. Anyhow, I have merely translated his book, in order to bring it to a modern audience. Of course, it is a book of poetry, and poets are divided over whether translating a work creates a new version of the first work, or a completely new work altogether, or . . .”

Hazel, who always got sleepy on car journeys, and who had been up very early that morning to work on a new design for a hemp-rope hammock, emitted a gentle snore. Marcel elbowed her. Jupiter took the opportunity to pinch Lexy again, this time on her leg, and then carried on speaking as if nothing had happened.

“It’s called Galloglass, as you already know,” he said. “And I have added a tiny subtitle: In Praise of the Selfish Individual.”

“That’s right,” said Marcel, nodding. “I remember now. I read all about it in the Old Town Gazette. You’re against the concept of community.”

“Indeed,” said JP.

“How can anyone be against community?”

“For all the reasons it says in the poem,” said JP. “If you know someone is going to feed you, it stops you from learning to feed yourself. Community holds people back. It makes them soft. Community makes people complacent. It takes away their natural desire to thrive.”

“So taking our neighbor a casserole when she gets out of hospital is ‘holding her back’?”

JP sighed. “It’s not quite as simple as that.”

“Or teaching people how to meditate, or do yoga?”

“As long as they pay you, it’s fine.”

“What’s wrong with doing it for free, though? I enjoy the voluntary work I do in the community.”

“Aha. So you’re actually doing it for yourself, for your own enjoyment, and not for the community at all! If you were truly selfless, you’d hate every minute of it and do it anyway. As I have always said, there’s no such thing as altruism. No offense, but this world is ruined by do-gooders who like to keep their own egos inflated by ‘helping others’ when in fact they are just helping themselves and—yes—holding other people back. It might be different in other worlds, but here we are designed to be individuals, and to operate according to our selfish desires. It’s better for us, and better for others.”

“Well, when I teach yoga in the community I—”