| Quote #1 I might add, not quite parenthetically, that he was by far the least prolific letter writer in the family. I don't think I've had five letters from him in my life. ("Seymour" 1.3) |
It's interesting that Seymour's self-isolation manifests itself this way – as someone who, in a family is writers, is surprisingly silent. This is fitting in a story that deals with written communication.
| Quote #2 To make things still more provocative, as I was wandering around in the garment district trying to find an empty cab, a second lieutenant in the Signal Corps, whom I'd apparently overlooked saluting, crossing Seventh Avenue, suddenly took out a fountain pen and wrote down my name, serial number, and address while a number of civilians looked interestedly on. ("Roof Beam" 2.7) |
This sets us up for the later tension between Buddy and the Matron of Honor's husband, who, as a lieutenant, outranks him. Part of the intense discomfort of the backseat setting lies in this tension.
| Quote #3 In automatic deference to his rank, I very nearly chuckled right along with him - a short, inane, stranger's and draftee's chuckle that would clearly signify that I was with him and everyone else in the car, against no one. ("Roof Beam" 2.26) |
Buddy's isolation is made painfully evident by he lengths to which he goes to placate the others – even those (like the Matron of Honor) who are stuck in the car with him.