On that 'They, the powerful, being unfree' thread

[Mark Kohut]

 I recently reread Faulkner's great story DRY SEPTEMBER. If you don't know it,
it is a vivid slice of life of the formation of a vigilante mob, in a
barber shop, led by one
ex-soldier (who fought in France) so aggressively, irrationally full
of rage that he
even pushes his wife angrily (wonderful Faulkner nuance that he
doesn't hit her but almost does)
when he gets home from the act of taking the innocent black man to the
woods and....

gets home on this 62nd night of  Dantean inferno heat, to his
"house--like a birdcage ".

Those great writers, what they do,
-
Pynchon-l / http://www.waste.org/mail/?list=pynchon-l