![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiOOM4Dpd_m5HOpZNm8KyzEF4Plc5FUciHdFjbjR-gG4k5woXbhrmq9I5U09c6setfivQQnSIcKjE9HPPAW4t9uRB-AQOBBtyyuxhJ4Q7bjPYwEWeVO9Zqm6x6UMDKKMY7taHaew/s320/first+third.jpeg)
In telling the story of his childhood thusly, he takes lots of liberties on drawing conjectures and making observations regarding the meaning behind his actions and experiences that no child of 6 or 7 or 8 would likely have done at the time. But that is not the purpose of memoir. Memoir doesn't deliver unencumbered reality, it offers a biased recollection that contains a skeleton of truth wrapped in the idealized flesh of the heart's eye.
The body created here is one of amazing humanity and gives one a picture of a world and a life hard to image but all too real.
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