He probably was then, too.
It takes an artist to render a bum into a man of legend.
When I was a lad, there was a man known locally as "Two bottle Bill".
Every day you would see him at around the same hour making the same trip to the pub to get his two bottles of whiskey and then walk home. Like clockwork.
I remember him, I remember his greatcoat, I remember the beard and the way he smelled if you came anywhere near him.
If I wrote about him in a telling way, his name would survive... yet he himself would still be dead. My interpretation of him would be history. But he himself, whoever he was and whatever story he had to tell, would still be dust.
Those of us who live in history only do so as caricatures.
It takes an artist to render a bum into a man of legend.
When I was a lad, there was a man known locally as "Two bottle Bill".
Every day you would see him at around the same hour making the same trip to the pub to get his two bottles of whiskey and then walk home. Like clockwork.
I remember him, I remember his greatcoat, I remember the beard and the way he smelled if you came anywhere near him.
If I wrote about him in a telling way, his name would survive... yet he himself would still be dead. My interpretation of him would be history. But he himself, whoever he was and whatever story he had to tell, would still be dust.
Those of us who live in history only do so as caricatures.
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