As We Are Now: A Novel
By May Sarton
"I am no longer mad, purely previous. . . . i'm in a focus camp for the old."
So starts may possibly Sarton's brief, fast blow of a unique, concerning the powerlessness of the previous and the craze it could possibly carry. As we're Now tells the tale of Caroline Spencer, a 76-year-old retired schoolteacher, mentally robust yet bodily frail, who has been moved through kin right into a "home." Subjected to sophisticated humiliations and petty cruelties, sustained for too brief a time through the affection of someone else, she fights again with all she has, and in a strong climax wins a negative victory.
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He needed to select. the one factor i don't recognize is why he has no longer come to work out me. might be he's ailing. might be they've got long past away. It does look queer. additionally, even though it is obvious in my brain that I needed to move someplace, it isn't transparent why where selected should still appear a spot of punishment. yet i need to no longer reside in this if attainable. occasionally outdated humans think that everybody is opposed to them. they've got delusions of persecution. i need to now not fall into that seize. it really is larger to grin on the photograph of that giant white Cadillac turning off macadam onto a coarse airborne dirt and dust street, the rain—of direction it needed to be raining, and never only a quiet rain, yet a true downpour that might make virtually someone reflect on development an ark! I puzzled no matter if Ginny had taken a incorrect turning. after we stopped at a small purple farmhouse that appeared as if it were progressively sinking into the dust for years, i presumed it has to be to invite instructions. there has been no signal, purely elms—the nursing house is referred to as “Twin Elms. ” 5 huge, immense ducks stretched out their necks and hissed at us after we received out of the auto. i realized there has been a barn over to the ideal. within the rain, the full position appeared enclosed in darkness. “Well,” John stated, “here we're, Caro. ” His voice had develop into unnaturally pleased within the means voices do while addressing childrens or the feeble-minded. there have been doorways, however the entrance door opened right into a sea of dust and used to be obviously no longer used. Ginny had parked just about the aspect door. We driven our manner in with out ringing as a result of downpour. Even in these jiffy I obtained drenched. there has been no corridor. We came upon ourselves in a wide room with 4 or 5 beds in it. there has been no mild on. It took a second sooner than i noticed that beside each one mattress an previous guy sat on a directly chair. One had his head in his fingers. A more youthful guy, whose legs have been bandaged and who used to be part mendacity and part sitting in a kind of clinical rocker, attempted to talk yet part choked. He used to be sincerely out of his brain. despite the fact that, he smiled, the one individual in that room who did or who may perhaps. Ginny referred to as out loudly, “Here we're! Is there someone domestic? ” Then an important girl stuffed the entrance, wiping her palms on her apron. “Oh … well,” she acknowledged, as though she were taken unexpectedly. “My daughter is simply making up pass over Spencer’s room. yet i suppose you could pass in now. ” She laughed. “We’re up tight nowadays, no position to invite you to sit. ” I had had such a lot of shocks through then that I felt rather numb and in simple terms desired to be left on my own once attainable. My center began up and that i used to be afraid i would faint. however it used to be a convenience to discover that I had a room of my very own, simply large enough for a mattress, an armchair, and a bureau. The mattress was once parallel to the window, and the window regarded out, a lot to my astonishment, on an extended box with tall bushes on the finish and, past them, mild hills. “Look on the view,” Ginny acknowledged. “Isn’t it outstanding? ” “What is that woman’s identify? ” I requested in a whisper. I had the sensation already that even a whisper will be heard. “Mrs. Hatfield—Harriet Hatfield.