For Berger, every piece, no matter how playful, had high stakes. When he went as far as to connect Hieronymus Bosch with the “economic fascism” of globalization, then, he was not engaging in interpretive theatrics. He saw the horizonless, claustrophobic hell of Bosch’s Millennium Trilogy as a prophesy of our lived reality. “What the painting by Bosch does,” he writes, “is to remind us—if prophecies can be called reminders—that the first step towards building an alternative world has to be a refusal of the world-picture implanted in our minds.” We must find a horizon, he wrote, and the way to do that is to “refind hope.”

This solution, refinding hope, appears again and again throughout his writing, like a series of sturdy knots connecting the bedsheets by which we might escape from prison or descend from the ivory tower.