For over a week now, the line from one of John Prine’s song “That’s the Way the World Goes ‘Round”: “naked as the eyes of a clown” has been haunting me”. It just seems to replay over and over in my head throughout the day, during any “quiet” time I have.
Last night, I was reading out of John Steinbecks novel, “The Grapes of Wrath” (for the third time in my life) and this passage struck me:
“They was a brave on a ridge, against the sun. Knowed he stood out. Spread his arms an’ stood. Naked as morning, an’ against the sun. Maybe he was crazy, I don’t know. Stood there, arms spread out; like a cross he looked. Four hundred yards. An’ the men–well, they raised their sights an’ they felt the wind with their fingers; an’ then they jus’ lay there and couldn’ shoot. Maybe that Injun knowed somepin. Knowed we couldn’ shoot. Jes’ laid there with the rifles cocked, an’ didn’ even put ‘em to our shoulders. Lookin’s at him. Head-band, one feather. Could see it, an’ naked as the sun. Long time we laid there an’ looked, an’ he never moved. An’ then the captain got mad. ‘Shoot, you crazy bastards, shoot!’ he yells. An’ we jus’ laid there. ‘I’ll give you to a five-count, an’ then mark you down,’ the captain says. Well, sir–we put up our rifles slow, an’ ever’ man hoped some-body’s shoot first. I ain’t never been so sad in my life. An’ I laid my sights on his belly, cause’ you can’t stop a Injun no other place–an’–then. Well, he jest plunkered down an’ rolled. An’ we went up. An’ he wasn’ big–he’d looked so grand–up there. All tore to pieces an’ little. Ever see a cock pheasant, stiff and beautiful, ever’ feather drawed an’ painted, an’ even his eyes drawed in pretty? An’ bang! You pick him up–bloody an’ twisted, an’ you spoiled somepin better’n you; an’ eatin’ him don’t make it up to you, ’cause you spoiled somepin in yaself, an’ you can’t never fix it up”
It was a story being told in the “Gov’ment Camp” the Joads stayed in. The story seems to be just tossed in among a few other random type stories and events that depict what went on during a typical evening in the camps.
Now twicet he uses a simile that describes how naked this “Injun is”.
Naked Truths
For over a week now, the line from one of John Prine’s song “That’s the Way the World Goes ‘Round”: “naked as the eyes of a clown” has been haunting me”. It just seems to replay over and over in my head throughout the day, during any “quiet” time I have.
Last night, I was reading out of John Steinbecks novel, “The Grapes of Wrath” (for the third time in my life) and this passage struck me:
“They was a brave on a ridge, against the sun. Knowed he stood out. Spread his arms an’ stood. Naked as morning, an’ against the sun. Maybe he was crazy, I don’t know. Stood there, arms spread out; like a cross he looked. Four hundred yards. An’ the men–well, they raised their sights an’ they felt the wind with their fingers; an’ then they jus’ lay there and couldn’ shoot. Maybe that Injun knowed somepin. Knowed we couldn’ shoot. Jes’ laid there with the rifles cocked, an’ didn’ even put ‘em to our shoulders. Lookin’s at him. Head-band, one feather. Could see it, an’ naked as the sun. Long time we laid there an’ looked, an’ he never moved. An’ then the captain got mad. ‘Shoot, you crazy bastards, shoot!’ he yells. An’ we jus’ laid there. ‘I’ll give you to a five-count, an’ then mark you down,’ the captain says. Well, sir–we put up our rifles slow, an’ ever’ man hoped some-body’s shoot first. I ain’t never been so sad in my life. An’ I laid my sights on his belly, cause’ you can’t stop a Injun no other place–an’–then. Well, he jest plunkered down an’ rolled. An’ we went up. An’ he wasn’ big–he’d looked so grand–up there. All tore to pieces an’ little. Ever see a cock pheasant, stiff and beautiful, ever’ feather drawed an’ painted, an’ even his eyes drawed in pretty? An’ bang! You pick him up–bloody an’ twisted, an’ you spoiled somepin better’n you; an’ eatin’ him don’t make it up to you, ’cause you spoiled somepin in yaself, an’ you can’t never fix it up”
It was a story being told in the “Gov’ment Camp” the Joads stayed in. The story seems to be just tossed in among a few other random type stories and events that depict what went on during a typical evening in the camps.
Now twicet he uses a simile that describes how naked this “Injun is”.
Maybe he was crazy. Maybe I’m crazy…………….. er.