A man who buys books because they're pretty (part three)

Bragg's mother is jaded by his father. There is something in the wrapping of the telephone cord around her hands that carries sadness in a time before cordless phones. He mentions that he lived in a house with his fammily on behalf of his aunt Nita and uncle Ed...doesn't every Southerner have a wealthy aunt and uncle? Bragg's description of his father reminds me of my grandfather, my Bobo, although he would never beat a man up in front of a little girl. However, a common phrase that comes out of his mouth is "son of a bitch." Those words, when spoken, paint me a picture of where I think that person is from, how they vote, and their general opinion on everything. He also comes from a time when to be afraid was to be shameful. I've had personal experiences with the young alcoholic familiy memeber who is drinking themselves to death and has no other treatment but The Cross. My favorite passage from this chapter is, "I guess it is what you do if you grow up with warnings of damnation ringing from every church door and radio station and family reunion, in a place where total strangers will walk up to you at the Piggly Wiggly and ask if you are Saved. Even if you deny that faith, rebuke it, you still carry it around with you like some half-forgotten Indian head penny you keep in your pocket for luck. I wonder sometimes if I will be the same, if when I see my life coming to and end I will drop to my knees and search my soul for old sins and my memory for forgotten prayers. I reckon so." Wow. This is an on-going voice in the back of young Bible-belters' heads. He says that his second-hand motorcycle and his first real kiss ranked above his father in terms of relevance and importance. I felt guilt when I read it because as loving as a person as I think myself to be, I have felt the same way with my own biological father. Like Bragg's brother, I sometimes feel as if I was hatched, by my mother alone, into this world.