The older generation flits in and out like characters in a dream. I have had great difficulties in understanding them. I made more than a half-hearted attempt at it. I was sympathetic to their experience. I think I understand what they moan about the camaraderie which existed during the war.
Despite everything, my roots are in the poor. The psychology of the poor. I never thought I would hear myself say it; the poor immigrant. Or the long-standing American family impoverished by the depression
Striving upward hits barrier after barrier. A good man will meet a threshold he will not cross; psychological or otherwise. Well, what about the sons and daughters of this arrangement?
There is no "entry" into the next class because there are no classes, only individuals caught in some personal drama.
If America was suppose to be an experiment it was my family that was the object and the subject of that experiment.
It's the reservoir out of which most things good in America come out of. So, this is something I am not ashamed of. It is not something that disturbs me a great deal. It simply proved to be confusing when attempting to understand the elder generation.