“For a long while- for many years, in fact- he had not thought of how it was before he came to the farm. His memory of those times was like a house where no one lives and where the furniture has rotted away. But tonight it was as if lamps had been lighted through all the gloomy dead rooms. It had begun to happen when he saw Tico Feo coming through the dusk with his splendid guitar. Until that moment he had not been lonesome. Now, recognizing his loneliness, he felt alive. He had not wanted to be alive. To be alive was to remember brown rivers where the fish run, and sunlight on a lady's hair.”
In this quote from Truman Capote's work, the protagonist reflects on his past and experiences a sudden resurgence of memories and emotions that he had long buried. The metaphor of his memories being like a dilapidated house without inhabitants or furniture conveys a sense of neglect and abandonment. However, the arrival of Tico Feo with his guitar triggers a flood of emotions, making the protagonist feel alive despite his previous feelings of numbness and detachment. The mention of the brown rivers and sunlight on a lady's hair symbolize moments of beauty and joy that the protagonist had forgotten, highlighting the power of memory and nostalgia to reinvigorate one's spirit.
In this excerpt from Truman Capote's work, the protagonist experiences a sudden surge of memories and emotions after seeing a familiar face. This idea of reawakening past memories and emotions, and feeling alive in moments of solitude, resonates with modern audiences who often find solace and reflection in nostalgia and introspection. This passage speaks to the universal human experience of longing for connection and the power of music and memories to bring joy and meaning to our lives.
The passage from Truman Capote's work illustrates the power of memory and nostalgia. In this excerpt, the protagonist experiences a sudden wave of emotions and memories that had long been forgotten.
“For a long while- for many years, in fact- he had not thought of how it was before he came to the farm. His memory of those times was like a house where no one lives and where the furniture has rotted away. But tonight it was as if lamps had been lighted through all the gloomy dead rooms. It had begun to happen when he saw Tico Feo coming through the dusk with his splendid guitar. Until that moment he had not been lonesome. Now, recognizing his loneliness, he felt alive. He had not wanted to be alive. To be alive was to remember brown rivers where the fish run, and sunlight on a lady's hair.”
This passage from Truman Capote's work brings up themes of memory, loneliness, and the power of connection. Reflect on the following questions:
“He had no thought of how it was before he came to the farm. His memory of those times was like a house where no one lives and the furniture has rotten away.”
“He had no thought og how it was before he came to the farm. His memory of those times was like a house where no one lives and the furniture has rotten away.”
“But the address, if it ever existed, never was sent, which made me sad, there was so much I wanted to write her: that I'd sold two stories, had read where the Trawlers were countersuing for divorce, was moving out of the brownstone because it was haunted. But mostly, I wanted to tell about her cat. I had kept my promise; I had found him. It took weeks of after-work roaming through those Spanish Harlem streets, and there were many false alarms--flashes of tiger-striped fur that, upon inspection, were not him. But one day, one cold sunshiny Sunday winter afternoon, it was. Flanked by potted plants and framed by clean lace curtains, he was seated in the window of a warm-looking room: I wondered what his name was, for I was certain he had one now, certain he'd arrived somewhere he belonged. African hut or whatever, I hope Holly has, too.”
“But there were moments when she played songs that made you wonder where she learned them, where indeed she came from. Harsh-tender wandering tunes with words that smacked of pinewoods or prairie. One went: Don’t wanna sleep, Don’t wanna die, Just wanna go a-travelin’ through the pastures of the sky; and this one seemed to gratify her the most, for often she continued it long after her hair hard dried, after the sun had gone and there were lighted windows in the dusk.”
“As a child he had often thought of killing himself, but those were sentimental reveries born a wish to punish his father and mother and other enemies.”
“The stars were his pleasure, but tonight they did not comfort him; they did not make him remember that what happens to us on earth is lost in the endless shine of eternity. Gazing at them-the stars-he thought of the jewelled guitar and its worldly glitter.”