Billy talks about a classic book, Light in August, by William Faulkner. An American masterpiece, really. Racism and sexism and ignorance and hate fit together seamlessly. Why?
This is genuine literature, so it's demanding, but also a page-turner.
While he watches her with that despair of all men in the presence of female tears, she begins to cry. She sits upright, the child at her breast, crying, not loud and not hard, but with a patient and hopeless abjectness, not hiding her face. “And you worry me about if I said No or not and I already said No and you worry me and worry me and now he is already gone. I will never see him again.” And he sits there, and she bows her head at last, and he rises and stands over her with his hand on her bowed head, thinking Thank God, God help me. Thank God, God help me.
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