I say that his outlook on the world is oblique. This does not refer to his predilection for violence, although to refined people there must be something unpleasant in a person who could every week for two years describe the physical encounters of an average household. I mean that things come before his mental and physical vision which no one else seems to see. “Hello” is the beginning of one page in the Album, “we heard you at the door, but just thought you were part of the bad weather.” (I have before me this solitary example of his work, and it is proof enough of his quality that it contains everything essential in him; he is so specifically himself that in spite of his imitators you can identify his work from half a sentence.) “The folks,” it continues, “are in having supper at each other, and pop says that unless uncle can get control of his table manners he will have to eat by himself, if he can get that far away from anybody.” When you have read half a dozen of his pages you will understand what he means by the word “at” in the first line. “Pop was a very hard man to please no matter what you give him,” and after the flight:
“Mom decided that pop had outgrown our town and thought it would be a good idea of we moved . . . and pop could start life all over again and grow a new set of thumbprints.
