And in that moment Sherman made the terrible discovery that men make about their fathers sooner or later. For the first time he realised that the man before him was not an aging father but a boy, a boy much like himself, a boy who grew up and had a child of his own and, as best he could, out of a sense of duty and, perhaps, love, adopted a role called Being a Father so that his child would have something mythical and infinitely important: a Protector, who would keep a lid on all the chaotic and catastrophic possibilities of life. And now that boy, that good actor, had grown old and fragile and tired, wearier than ever at the thought of trying to hoist the Protector's armor back onto his shoulders again, now so far down the line.
Friday, April 24, 2009
a boy, the Protector
Tämä minun kirjoittaminen on nyt vain lukemieni pätkien näpyttelyä tänne blogiin. Mutta, jotenkin nämä ovat hyviä pätkiä, ja niissä on tunteita tai ajatuksia joita haluaisin ilmaista. Kuten nyt tämä Tom Wolfen romaanista Bonfire of Vanities.