When the ink dries, we'll have another bastard's peace.

Sunday, July 12, 2009

July 12th. Thought like a wire.

"I was happier then. Or was that I? Or am I now I? Twentyeight I was. She twentythree when we left Lombard street west something changed. Could never like it again after Rudy. Can't bring back time. Like holding water in your hand. Would you go back to then? Just beginning then. Would you? Are you not happy in your home, you poor little naughty boy? Wants to sew on buttons for me. I must answer. Write it in the library."

How do you argue with this? How is it possible to say so much in so few words? Out of context this barely even makes sense. Reading it in the context of the story to that point, it made me want to cry. Two words—"Rudy" and "naughty"—and you're done for. Some things are nobody's fault. Little tragedies. We move on like so.

1 comment:

m said...

Few things make me cry, but there are parts of that book that are just so resonant with the universality of human existence that I have no other way to process how someone so far removed from my life can still understand it so well from within the scope of his own experience.

p.s. I am NOT revealing plot details, but the scene that gets me the worst is in episode 11.