i’m surprisingly comfortable with the fact that i’m literally still stepping on broken glass in my apartment. it reminds me of when i moved across the country and packed my picture frames in my suitcase and everything shattered inside. i just fished out the photos, zipped the pouch back up and wrote broken glass with a sharpie across it. i guess we all have different fears. this book (and season one of treme) represents my return to multiple library materials (though they’ve kind of been pussy-footing around telling me that they miss those other hands that carried them this week). all of my waking moments have been spent with this brilliant piece from the author that i’m ecstatic to revisit. *i am officially planting the seed to peep barbery’s work in french.
“To hell with them, those pinky bourgeois, they want their cake and they want to eat it too, they want their season ticket to the Chatelet and want to see the down-and-outs rescued from poverty, they want their tea at Mariage’s and all men on earth to be equal, they want their vacation in Tuscany and to see the sidewalks swept clean of anything that might stimulate their guilt, they want to pay their cleaning lady off the books and they want you to listen to their altruistic I’m-a-defender-of-humanity tirades. The State, the State! They’re like illiterate folk who adore the king and accuse only the evil corrupt ministers of all the ills they’re subject to; it’s the Godfather saying to his minions, “I don’t like the look of this guy,” without acknowledging that what he has just ordered in a veiled sort of way is the man’s execution; it’s the bullied sons or daughters who insult the social worker asking for explanations from unworthy parents! The State! It’s only fair to go after the State when you want to blame someone else, even if that someone else is none other than your own self!” (84)
see? now what would you do with a don cherry bobblehead doll?