“I can describe him in moonlight, relieved not to have to imagine the moonlight, not to have to phrase it, the silly moonlight, not to have to imagine the city street, the tight row of townhouses, the windows but to have it all be there, solidly there to the senses— he likes to be free of me. The unimagined world intoxicates that realer self, and I am— it is clear— a twist that his life has taken that he often dislikes.”
—
Harold Brodkey.
BOOM. Remember, he wrote that story “Innocence” with the ‘seeing her was like seeing Marxism die’ bit? I like him his writing! See!
