The Explanation
(for those who require one)

And, of course, that is what all of this is -- all of this: the one song, ever changing, ever reincarnated, that speaks somehow from and to and for that which is ineffable within us and without us, that is both prayer and deliverance, folly and wisdom, that inspires us to dance or smile or simply to go on, senselessly, incomprehensibly, beatifically, in the face of mortality and the truth that our lives are more ill-writ, ill-rhymed and fleeting than any song, except perhaps those songs -- that song, endlesly reincarnated -- born of that truth, be it the moon and June of that truth, or the wordless blue moan, or the rotgut or the elegant poetry of it. That nameless black-hulled ship of Ulysses, that long black train, that Terraplane, that mystery train, that Rocket '88', that Buick 6 -- same journey, same miracle, same end and endlessness."
-- Nick Tosches, Where Dead Voices Gather

Before and After #219: Erskine Caldwell




Sock MonKey 1 said...

I guess that portrait in the attic didn't work so well.

Max Allan Collins said...

Rough weekend.

On a more serious note, Caldwell was a great writer -- a literary guy who connected with the masses. But he's a fairly obscure figure today. I'd like to think God's Little Acre, Journey and Tobacco Road will endure.

James said...

I never knew Margaret Burke-White could have such an effect on a man.

FlynnD said...

LOL to Sock MonKey 1 comment...

The aged Caldwell photo reminds me of the equally disturbing and decrepit countenance of Somerset Maugham in his later years.

marietta said...

Wat must happen,to get so a kind of face.