When it came, i saw it was a small book, but procrastination is its own reward. Well, today i went for the bivalent coronavirus vaccine. In the past, a fifteen minute wait thereafter was required. The nurse saw on her computer, that, i had no allergic reaction to the prior ones, so it was not necessary to wait. I had brought the book to start for that time interval. She asked me, whether i wanted to get a flu shot. I said "yes". There was a line for that, so i began the book.
First paragraph was straight forward prose, it was the cause necessitating a small shopping trip. It was the narrator's last day in town. The next day, the remainder of her family was going into internal deportation. She had things to pack. There were three pictures hanging in the home. One was a painting of Princess Elizabeth...serendipity...she died two days ago. There was a picture of Jesus, and Millet's "Gleaners".
Then the brutality began. Her husband was in camp for months. When he was allowed to write home, the envelope was stamped, "Censored War Department", or "Detained Alien Enemy Mail".
Pets were not allowed to accompany the internal exiles. She gave the cat to a neighbour. The White Dog was old, and blind in one eye. Part of the shopping was for a hammer, the store did not have one sufficiently large. She used a shovel to dispatch the animal, in one blow. The story began on page 3, we are up to page 11. I was slow to start this book, i do not think i will take a long time to finish it.
The problem with a good novel, or other art, is that it can lead to empathy when showing truth. Truth that makes the powers that be, or those who wish to be a part of the powers that be, look bad. It is not that they are ashamed, they are angry and wish to impose their will to satisfy their feelings of revenge, and wish to crush anything that does not support their views, or programme.
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