I've Never Abandoned The Novel.

I Have A Very Small Public.

The Biography Of A Writer - Or Even The Autobiography - Will Always Have This Incompleteness.

In The Beginning, Before The Arrival Of The White Men, I Had Considered Myself Neutral. I Had Wanted Neither Side To Win, Neither The Army Nor The Rebels. As It Turned Out, Both Sides Lost.

As A Child I Knew Almost Nothing, Nothing Beyond What I Had Picked Up In My Grandmother's House. All Children, I Suppose, Come Into The World Like That, Not Knowing Who They Are.

How Could People Like These, Without Words To Put To Their Emotions And Passions, Manage? They Could, At Best, Only Suffer Dumbly. Their Pains And Humiliations Would Work Themselves Out In Their Characters Alone: Like Evil Spirits Possessing A Body, So That The Body Itself Might Appear Innocent Of What It Did.