Creativity Quote by Ivor Novello

“There are very few misanthropes, thank goodness!” lands like a light song lyric with a sly edge: it’s optimism delivered with a wink. Novello, a composer and performer whose name is basically shorthand for velvet romance and interwar escapism, isn’t making a philosophical claim about human nature so much as staging a mood. The punchline is the gratitude. “Thank goodness” frames misanthropy not as an interesting contrarian pose but as a social nuisance we’re lucky to have in small supply.

The intent feels practical and theatrical. In entertainment, especially Novello’s world of drawing rooms, spotlights, and cultivated charm, misanthropy is dead air. It interrupts the agreed-upon illusion that people are basically delightful, that feelings can be harmonized, that the room can be won. So the line doubles as a social cue: don’t be the person who refuses the chorus. If you can’t muster warmth, at least don’t romanticize your disdain.

The subtext is also protective. The early 20th century produced plenty of reasons to sour on humanity: war, economic collapse, public moral policing, private grief. Novello’s insistence on “very few” reads like a choice to keep bitterness from becoming fashionable, to keep the cultural temperature from dropping. It’s not naive; it’s curated. In a milieu built on sentiment, the rare misanthrope is a necessary foil, a reminder that cynicism exists, but doesn’t get top billing.