TRTR(I.3) Hidden Profits [Epigraph]

[alice wellintown]

> I am ahead in the reading and this would not have connected at this early stage
> for me......

Me, I'm ahead too, I guess. I'm lost. That is, I'm reading and
enjoying re-reading the book, but I can't find anything to say to the
group read here about the topics of interest. My usual crime is to
intertext and intertext and tie the book to a chair and beat it with a
rubber hose to force a confession out of it. I shine a love light on
its private parts and hold a fun-house mirror up to its plastic nature
and then make it scream caught in my fly.

 I do find the work beautiful and haunting. It haunts me in a deep and
disturbing way because I identify so much with Wyatt. Usually, I scoff
at those who identify with characters; a weaker reading than the one
that identifies with the protagonist is not easy to find, so I know
I'm a weak reader here, but that is where the reading takes me. I feel
the blood on Wyatt's face as it dries and I feel too the feeling of
being completely oblivious to the fact that there is blood, any blood.
I sense the sorrow and sadness of Esther when she sees the blood, when
she suspects his homosexuality, when she tells the cop Wyatt is a
priest. I know the long conversation with a young man who will listen
and reply and make a song of philosophical cant. I know the phrases on
Aunt May, they are stitched into my scalp; they are dying falls and
coffee salons measured for measure. But there is something in the book
that doesn't love analysis just now. This too will pass as all things
must.