Word: screaming
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Dates: during 1970-1979
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...launched into some jokes. "He's a scream!" a woman behind me squealed. The rest of the crowd seemed to agree and its conditioned laugh erupted at appropriate intervals. "But I want to tell you..." Hope said every time after they laughed, and I remembered the good old days of five hours a night in front...
...ambience. Shame hangs in the air of this house as palpably as poison gas. The home is never cleaned or tidied up, not because doing either is physically or economically impossible, but because the members of the family are psychically paralyzed. The ring of the telephone is like a scream that petrifies, and the thought of a neighbor paying a visit is as horrifying as a storm trooper battering at the door in the night. In this cave of terrified mutants, the judgments of the outside world arrive as abrasive jeers. To savage the mother, the older daughter tells...
...will be good to have a "message" that definite and unequivocal to hang on to. Fuck you. And you. And you. And you. In this book, the words are not meant as a challenge, or a threat, or a command. They are the only words a black man can scream out once he has stopped his whoring to the white world, once he has chosen "to see only blackness," and "to live right out of his insides." The novel itself is a 2000 mile an hour trip through all the shit it takes to finally make that choice...
...sister and I are terrified; not just because we would lose the game if our feet were to get wet. And suddenly we are all motion: every muscle moving for itself in its own direction in a rush to beat the wave back up the beach. We scream. The water is rushing up just a few feet and then a few inches behind us. We are small and awkward, and sometimes our feet get confused and we fall down and get wet. But usually we make it; we do this time. And that enormous wave which we thought...
...Drum. The book sold more than 1,500,000 copies around the world (about 600,000 in the U.S.), as appalled and fascinated readers in 16 languages absorbed the dwarf's devastating, knee-high view of the rise and fall of the Third Reich. Oskar's "sing-scream" could shatter glass. His magic drum carried him back and forth in time. One of his best tricks was breaking up Nazi rallies by hiding beneath the speakers' platforms and beating out counterrhythms on the tin drum. In his writing, in his life, Grass has played his own version of Oskar...