I think of the postmodern attitude as that of a man who loves a very
cultivated woman and knows that he cannot say to her, 'I love you
madly', because he knows that she knows (and that she knows that he
knows) that these words have already been written by Barbara Cartland.
Still, there is a solution. He can say, 'As Barbara Cartland would put
it, I love you madly.' At this point, having avoided false innocence,
having said clearly that it is no longer possible to speak innocently,
he will nevertheless have said what he wanted to say to the woman:
that he loves her, but he loves her in an age of lost innocence. If
the woman goes along with this, she will have received a declaration
of love all the same. Neither of the two speakers will feel innocent,
both will have accepted the challenge of the past, of the already
said, which cannot be eliminated, both will consciously and with
pleasure play the game of irony... But both will have succeeded, once
again, in speaking of love.
-- Umberto Eco. "Refections on the Name of the Rose."