Word: savioring
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...again after leaving the center; he hails a cab to the bar whose title the novel bears. But the Mighty Angel is a name that Jerzy attributes to his love as well—the elusive girl in the yellow dress. The question arises whether this angel, this manifold savior, is just as fragile and just as fraught as the alcoholics that worship it. While Jerzy seems to have escaped this cycle of rehabilitation and relapse by the novel’s end, the reader is left to wonder whether its only a matter of time before he regresses again...
...culture is filled with the mythology that women are taught to nurture men, accommodate their weaknesses, and overlook their failures - that women are much more intuitive emotionally, so they should help men unearth their childhood traumas. I think a lot of that is why I get sucked into this savior fantasy. I thought it was my role as a woman to help my ex-husband. Women think they can take on anything and that we're supposed to. We live in a patriarchical society that puts women in a lot of impossible situations...
...bustling* Cowperthwaite Street, Mather is the most distant River House. Some might call this an inconvenience, but at least it’s closer than the quad**—and while quadlings tread through Cambridge Common every morning, the commute from Mather is 100% syringe free. Your savior on those rainy days is the shuttle, which stops right outside every 10 minutes (sometimes) and conveys you to your destination with speed and efficiency (sometimes). While the 10 a.m. shuttle is as packed as a clown car, the early-morning Rihanna on the bus' radio takes most of the beating...
...novel light and upbeat. He easily manages this by narrating his story as a conversation between a secret source and the professor asked to write the biography of Jonas Wergeland. There are some chapters where the professor just reflects on his secret source, who he refers to as his savior, but also on the life of Jonas, and every story ties into the demon that Jonas Wergeland really was.Jonas had been reminded from the day that he was born that he would never overcome his commonness, that he would never amount to anything great. These thoughts haunted him so often...
...imagine the sour state we received Mrs. Lewis in when she came bobbing down the steps of the church screaming, “Happy Easter, Mr. Moore! And Winnie! Our Savior is risen!”“He sure is,” Daddy said. He popped from the buggy, happy to get away from me. So the reverend’s wife began her prattle and I fell back against the seat. Ezekiel must have heard my mighty exhale from up front. His head turned in profile as he said...