cleaning the apartment and found a letter that Emily S Miller sent me in a time of mild turmoil for me. She quoted something shed seen recently, You were born an original. Dont die a copy. I couldnt help but be reminded of this: Mrs. Glass directed a long and oddly comprehensive look at his profile. Hes a young boy not out of college yet. And you make people nervous, young man, she said-most equably, for her. You either take to somebody or you dont. If you do, then you do all the talking and nobody can even get a word in edgewise. If you dont like somebody-which is most of the time -then you just sit around like death itself and let the person talk themself into a hole. Ive seen you do it. Zooey turned full around to look at his mother. He turned around and looked at her, in this instance, in precisely the same way that, at one time or another, in one year or another, all his brothers and sisters (and especially his brothers) had turned around and looked at her. Not just with objective wonder at the rising of a truth, fragmentary or not, up through what often seemed to be an impenetrable mass of prejudices, cliches, and bromides. But with admiration, affection, and, not least, gratitude. And, oddly or no, Mrs. Glass invariably took this tribute, when it came, in beautiful stride. She would look back with grace and modesty at the son or daughter who had given her the look. She now presented this gracious and modest countenance to Zooey. You do, she said, without accusation in her voice. [236]
Posted on: Sun, 17 Aug 2014 18:28:24 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015