![]() ![]() The shattering quality of the writing never lets up. ![]() ![]() He supports so many relatives financially that he, at times, can barely keep himself afloat. But he carries the reality of his childhood, the broken, complicated memories of his mother, every day. He’d eventually ascend to a professorship and, of course, the title of published author. (He weighed 300 pounds at one point, and would pass out in public.) The details are bleak, vivid: scrounging pizza slices from the trash while in college, watching his addict mother slotting away at a casino, from a distance. He conveys his agony, living through obesity and eating disorders, self-delusions and depression. Laymon meditates on the legacy of racial violence in his poor Mississippi hometown, the stains of blood and the ghosts of his ancestors all but visible as he traces the landscape. ![]()
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