By James Agee
The vintage American novel, re-published for the one hundredth anniversary of James Agee's birth
Published in 1957, years after its author's demise on the age of forty-five, A loss of life within the Family remains a near-perfect murals, an autobiographical novel that comprises probably the most evocative depictions of loss and grief ever written. As Jay Follet hurries again to his domestic in Knoxville, Tennessee, he's killed in a motor vehicle accident—a tragedy that destroys not just a existence, but in addition the household happiness and contentment of a tender family members. a singular of serious braveness, lyric strength, and robust emotion, A loss of life within the Family is a masterpiece of yankee literature.
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I know Ralph goes off his trolley easy. ” There was a loud stirring as she got from bed. ” “Why, your breakfast,” she said, switching on the light. ” she said, seeing the clock. “Oh, Mary. Get on back to bed. ” “Don’t be ridiculous,” she said, hurrying into her bathrobe. “Honest, it would be just as easy,” he said. He liked night lunchrooms, and had not been in one since Rufus was born. He was very faintly disappointed. But still more, he was warmed by the simplicity with which she got up for him, thoroughly awake.
He felt rather foolish, tender towards her innocence of this motherliness, and quite flattered. He felt for a moment rather vainly sure that he did indeed look very nice, to her anyhow, and that was all he cared about. “Well,” he said, taking out his watch. ” He showed her. Three-forty-one. ” “Oh yes. ” He put an arm around her shoulder and they walked to the back door. “All right, Mary. ” She opened the door and led him through, to the back porch. “You’ll catch cold,” he said. She shook her head.
There were few good friends among the grown people, and they were not poor enough for the other sort of intimate acquaintance, but everyone nodded and spoke, and even might talk short times, trivially, and at the two extremes of the general or the particular, and ordinarily next-door neighbors talked quite a bit when they happened to run into each other, and never paid calls. The men were mostly small businessmen, one or two very modestly executives, one or two worked with their hands, most of them clerical, and most of them between thirty and forty-five.