The Map and the Territory

To tell the truth, no one could; when faced with such a confession, people could only be slightly sad.

There’s a sort of emotion that manages to be born in their old heads: the son is the death of the father, certainly, but for the grandfather the grandson is a sort of rebirth or revenge, and that can be largely sufficient, at least for the duration of a Christmas dinner.

easy to capture: you could make him brutal, cynical in an “I shit on you from the top of my pile of cash” kind of way;