Evening. In his room. He tells me about his life with Mother. It is a revelation, and I know it is all true because I recognize the traits in Mother which made such a life possible. I am profoundly shocked. First because it is strange to discover the sexual life of one’s parents—one’s mother. Secondly because Mother had seemed a Puritan to me . . . always. So reserved, so unsympathetic, so secretive about sex. Religion. Morality. Bourgeoisie. And now I discovered a war, a sexual war, like the one between Lawrence and Frieda, June and Henry. Father trying to ascend as an artist; Mother the
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