You can’t help but feel bad for Robin. A young boy with no friends. Even worse, he was chubby. I know the pain. The only time I was not fat was when I was born- 6lbs 11oz. I feel I can easily relate to him. Up until the 6th grade and meeting Michael Garrity, I had no real friends. I would come home and be with my mother.
Like Robin, I had an imaginary world I lived in. Although I hadn’t thought of any names- like the Nethers- for my imaginary villains, they were still very real to me. I would enter the other realm by passing under the slide. I had my weapon of choice, a garden hoe, waiting for me on the other side. I would do battle with evil creatures that turned my “brother” into an animal (I didn’t have an older brother at the time- thankfully I do now).
One reason Robin did not drown when falling into the pond was because he was so “fluffy”. Fat=Flotation #funfact.
Robin had very unfortunate Prince Valiant bangs. I had an AWFUL haircut my sophomore year of high school. My aunt gave me a hair cut after having a few drinks and almost cut off my ear. I have pictures if anyone is interested.
When Robin imagined Suzanne saying “You should come over this summer. It’s cool if you swim with your shirt on. P.219” I swim with my shirt on- there is no shame in that.
Robin gets misaddressed as “Roger” by Suzanne when she once asked him to scoot over. I get misaddressed all the time- Taylor, Kyle, John, Terrance, Teri, Trevor…and the strangest of all, HEATHER!
I swear, Robin was written in my image.
February 11, 2016 at 2:07 pm
I think one of the most powerful things that a piece of literature can do is tell us that we’re not alone, that we’re not the only one experiencing pain and suffering and loneliness, and I think it can be an almost mystical or maybe even spiritual experience to see oneself in literature. (Or maybe I’ve overstating…)
I also think this gets at some of what David Foster Wallace was talking about: disturbing the comfortable, comforting the disturbed, and maybe, just maybe, letting each of us feel less alone in the world. It sounds corny, I know, but this is the power of good literature. Even (especially) the “messed up” stories I select for us to read in class. 🙂
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February 11, 2016 at 7:47 pm
Its quite interesting when you read something and then you have this feeling like its a mirror right in front of you. I have had that experience many times in things that Ive read and felt that Ive related so strongly with certain people in a book or story. And to think that person who wrote it, must also know that struggle or why the hell else would they write something like that. Its amazing how authors get to the hearts of people they don’t even know. Very powerful effect. David Foster Wallace also talks about how the currant postmodern writers are as he puts it “waiting for their parents to come home to restore order.” And then these writers realize they have to be the parents. I think that Saunders is the parent coming home, specifically with his short story “Tenth of December.”
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