单项选择题

In a world increasingly fearsome and fragile, TV commercials represent an oasis of calm and reassurance. For six minutes in every hour, viewers know that they will be wafted away from this cruel world into an idealized well-ordered land. You and I may experience real life as largely harassed and chaotic but in the world of the TV commercials happy families may be relied upon to gather at breakfast-time for convivial bowls of cornflakes, their teeth free of decay, their hair innocent of dandruff, their shirts whiter than snow.
TV advertising in Britain, obsessed with the symbols of the good life, exploits a yearning for evidence of old-fashioned security. Things were better in the old days: bread was crusty and beer was a man’s drink. But in selling the idea of a better life, it strikes me that most British commercials fail in their primary function. I cannot be alone among those who usually remember everything about TV advertising except the product it is designed to publicize.
In one superb commercial, a distinguished-looking Italian butler drives a car headlong into a vast dining-hall to serve champagne. What on earth was it selling The champagne The car What car Search me! Viewers reveled in the medium and forgot the message. American advertisers don’t make such mistakes. A typical U. S. commercial features a woman in a kitchen holding a highly-visible bottle of something or other and selling it hard. No art, no craft, just the message. America sells the steak, while Britain sells the sizzle.
A nation needs symbols. We need proof that lovely things still endure, like a team of shire horses criss-crossing the landscape at sundown. We want to be reminded that they still exist, that we may still come across pockets of sanity and beauty in a world less sane and less beautiful each day. TV commercials provide us with those symbols. They provide a link with the way we like to think we were. They help us to keep in touch with lost innocence.
How are British commercials different from American ones