Page 177

By Jack Joseph Smith

, rr ee over the hilli Ye always remember the times, when we crossed just beneath the thunders What was the silence like on: the other side? I remember nows: It was something like thiss Not peaceful, because you had just left the others And not wild, because that was what you had decided to leavei. hat are they doing here? Maybe I should whistle through the whisperss If they are not speaking of me, they are then most certainly out of places A jigger of a priteless gift could not bring pleasure to me in so unfilled moments when I laugh so unmisteakeably at nothings This fine glass she just gave me could, and maybe contain, the finest brandy 1,. myself have ever tasteds Certainly it is warm with . my minds: I am wateying the many faces of myself disappear into vague resemblemences, What would I have to do, to remind myself of my decay into darkness, Nothings: Ehis is not the place; I am joyess as the great mytholigical’ mans: Ha hag The ease I leaves Onee my father and I were in great rapids that were flowing through rocks and turning : giant trees aside, Their was a Indian guide with us, and I was the only one emaised in a bounty of fears I was so very little,.and Canada was a far off dream, I am : rememberings Clark Gable was a glory to the logey. and everyone was waiting on its ©. balcony for our returng. When we went yp and down in the lake I wanted to laugh, but knew both would be dangerouse. so I held withing. all emotions, That was a long time ago : gliding ow the lake of increased demention; I°see no time in changey. and I remember it as if it were nows So strongly soy. that I relate to it as the consercration of my movementss Safes. safey. théy are safe,. was the crys, when we never did go underg; Now it i is there looky. but who has experienced what has brought me heres. They are so wrongs’. And I am so lost to admit its. I never which of thought, which of reasory, never kneny, and do not knows, whith way I am goings’ She is a pretty womeng. yesy. her husband not a tusbandmang Much a delicate, so sensitive with his fingeras. Women love the others The carpenter, the mathametician,. Thick thumbs) used Foot taitcibedy like a hunting dog uses ;

Original Scan

Page 177

AI Interpretation

GPT

Watching a delicate husband at the piano and thinking bitterly about what women want, Michael spirals into a fragmentary meditation on his own aging face, lost strength, dreams, symbolic adventure, and the wish to run everything out of himself alone.

The drunken fragmentation is strong, but the emotional center is still visible: envy, exhaustion, and a collapsing confidence in his own persona. Women, symbols, and adventure all start to feel like stories he can no longer fully inhabit.


Claude

The brandy-glass reverie pulls up the Canadian-rapids memory with the Indian guide and Clark Gable on the lodge balcony, the child who held all emotion in because laughing and crying were both dangerous, the lake-gliding moment held as the consecration of his movements.