Van has read…The Tin Drum by Gunter Grass

24 Oct

The Tin Drum by Gunter Grass

Is it sadness that moves within me? I feel the displacement like an almost full bucket of water jolted. It slaps to and fro, washing up and clinging to my insides. It’s a cold feeling, the clutch of clammy, fretful fingers. As it subsides there’s the radiating warmth of anger, and it makes me wonder which has precedence. Is it the anger that causes the sadness to boil, or the cold sorrow which immolates the rage?

It’s Grass’s fault.

I could raise it up as a prayer; God, never give me cause to contain such sorrow, or such vitriol. How could one fail to be moved? He tricks me, lures me in with the farcical humour, then leaves me stranded in the wash of misery that follows. It’s too deep to wade, but he makes me try, and the effort stings me behind the eyes.

 

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