Emilia's Reviews > What's Eating Gilbert Grape

What's Eating Gilbert Grape by Peter Hedges
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Jun 03, 2010

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Read from June 03 to September 06, 2010

The more Christian you are in this town, the more makeup you wear. I've always thought that it's because if you were to die suddenly, you'd look better for God. <--- Just like the parable of the five foolish and the five wise bridesmaids!

Becky says, "I never want to regret. 'Regret' is the ugliest word."
To me, the ugliest words are "family," "Endora," "Jesus Christ." So I say, "I don't have a problem with 'regret.'

They've been deprived for so long, I say to myself, that their bodies have begun to eat their brains.

In the house the blue light from the television flickers its changing light on Momma. The shadows highlight her thick, fleshy brow and drooping jowls. Her gray hair is wild, wirelike. She ends up not looking like my mother at all, but rather some kind of monster or extraterrestrial.

Downstairs, Momma bangs her fists on the table and shouts, "Where are my Cheerios? Where are my Cheerios?!" Amy, in the bathroom, calls back. "In a minute, Momma, in a minute." In the kitchen, I locate the flowerbed salad bowl, pour in half a box of her cereal, carry it along with a gallon of milk to the dining room and set it out like a high-class waiter. "Aw, Gilbert, since when did you start loving your mother?"

Once upon a time my family had a certain fuzzy charm. Not anymore. Now we're like a boil on the butt of Iowa.

Something about milk always makes me think of my mother and while that might seem obvious, the thought of my mouth around her nipple, the thought of her feeding me, filling me with her milk, is not a comforting thought,

No need to explain son, we've been whooped.

The fire is beautiful.

Mediocre book, great ending.
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