Below is an extract of beautifully phrased words plucked craftily from a Rolling Stone interview with the fantastic American novelist and critic, Don DeLillo. It's an interview made by Anthony DeCurtis regarding one of DeLillo's novels, Libra, which was based upon the cultural shock that was the assassination of the late JFK.
It's a fucking good interview, and the following words really touched me. I think we've all been that person at some point in our lives (though I'm sure none of us would join the marines, or actively become involved in the murder of any public figure, especially an American President), and it's good to know DeLillo thinks so too.
"I think I have an idea of what it's like to be an outsider in this society. Oswald was clearly an outsider, although he fought against his exclusion. I had a very haunting sense of what kind of life he led and what kind of person he was. I experience it when I saw the places where he lived in New Orleans and in Dallas and in Fort Worth. I had a very clear sense of a man living on the margins of society. He was the kind of person we think we know until we delve more deeply. Who would have expected someone like that to defect to the Soviet Union? He started reading socialist writing when he was fifteen; then, as soon as he became old enough, joined the Marines. This element of self-contradiction seemed to exemplify his life. There seemed to be a pattern or self-argument."
It's a fucking good interview, and the following words really touched me. I think we've all been that person at some point in our lives (though I'm sure none of us would join the marines, or actively become involved in the murder of any public figure, especially an American President), and it's good to know DeLillo thinks so too.
"I think I have an idea of what it's like to be an outsider in this society. Oswald was clearly an outsider, although he fought against his exclusion. I had a very haunting sense of what kind of life he led and what kind of person he was. I experience it when I saw the places where he lived in New Orleans and in Dallas and in Fort Worth. I had a very clear sense of a man living on the margins of society. He was the kind of person we think we know until we delve more deeply. Who would have expected someone like that to defect to the Soviet Union? He started reading socialist writing when he was fifteen; then, as soon as he became old enough, joined the Marines. This element of self-contradiction seemed to exemplify his life. There seemed to be a pattern or self-argument."
