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275 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1979
I asked my father if the story I had just heard was true. He shrugged. I asked again, and again he shrugged. "Never explain, never apologize"; he liked to say that. I told him that what he had done was wrong. I had many times suggested such things to him with sullenness and despairing sighs, but I had never before directly charged him with doing wrong. When I told my father that what he had done was wrong he stared at me, as though I had at last truly puzzled him."Don't you understand me at all?" he asked. "Do you think I care what they think is wrong?"
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I yelled at my father through the mesh. Would he appear in court if I stood bail for him? I explained to him the bind I was in, the bind he had put me in. He did not seem sympathetic. Like the bondsman, he did not seem interested in the delicate character of my choice. I asked him bluntly: If I went to the edge for him, would he promise to come to court? He would promise nothing. He said I should do as I pleased, that he owed me no promises, he owed me nothing. (254)
"The son wishes to remember what the father wishes to forget"