Ooo, a great story set in South Carolina. I really, really love this kind of stuff. I think it’s really important to take our old stories and make them fresh.
Though, honestly, when I read these assholes speculating that poor Jacob Rogers killed himself because he was gay and not because he was bullied about being gay, I do laugh. I laugh because we have such small cowards ruling us. And it’s not just that they’re afraid of gay people and women and poor people and illegal immigrants. They’re afraid of the generosity of their own hearts.
Any person who is in touch with his own soul would be shaken by the suicide of any young person. One might expect any self-professed Christian to be filled with grief and compassion.
But not these small fuckers. No, they want legal protections for bullies as long as they’re bullying because of their religious–read: Christian–beliefs.
People, just sit with that a while. Followers of Jesus, yes Jesus Christ, want their religious right to bully people protected. It’s not “turn the other cheek.” It’s “force the people we hit to turn the other cheek.”
You have to laugh. Granted, it’s a Kurt Vonnegut laugh, but it’s a laugh.
You know, I kind of felt like The Sisters Brothers might be better appreciated by someone who wasn’t me after I finished it, but I have to say–it’s the one book I read last year that I still regularly think about. Last night, I even dreamed about it.
So, clearly, while the part of my brain that usually makes decisions about whether I like a book didn’t really get it (because I don’t read Westerns, I’d guess), some part of my brain, which normally doesn’t have an opinion about this shit, is an enormous fan.
I love the language of it, the weirdness of it. Something about it hits right at the spot I wish my writing hit. So, The Sisters Brothers–part of me was like “eh” and part of me was like “I will stick this in my dreams for later.”
You know, I think I can’t wait to reread it. The longer I remember it, the better I believe it is.