...much Of What Was Said Did Not

Don't Correct Me, You Don't Have Any Rights Over Me." "what Kind Of Life Is This? So I Sit At Home , Entirely Dependent On This Man, And Then It Turns Out His Heart Was Never With Me. How Is It Possible To Force Someone To Love Me?

One Chronicler Writes Of An Area Of India During The End Of The 20th Century: Almost No-one In This Slum Was Poor By Indian Benchmarks. ... True, A Few Residents Trapped Rats And Frogs And Fried Them For Dinner. A Few Ate The Scrub Grass At The Sewage Lake Edge. And These Individuals, Miserable Souls, Thereby Made An Inestimable Contribution To Their Neighbors. They Gave Those Slum Dwellers Who Didn't Fry Rats And Eat Weeds A Sense Of Their Upward Mobility.

A Great Deal Of What Is Presumed To Be Intractable Or Inevitable In This World Doesn't Strike Me That Way At All.

As A Reporter, You Know The Tropes Of How Stories On Poverty Work In Any Country. A Reporter Will Go To An Ngo And Say, "tell Me About The Good Work That You're Doing And Introduce Me To The Poor People Who Represent The Kind Of Help You Give." It Serves To Streamline The Storytelling, But It Gives You A Lopsided Cosmos In Which Almost Every Poor Person You Read About Is Involved With A Ngo Helping Him. Our Understanding Of Poverty And How People Escape From Poverty, In Any Country, Is Quite Distorted.

When I Pick A Story, I'm Very Much Aware Of The Larger Issues That It's Illuminating. But One Of The Things That I, As A Writer, Feel Strongly About Is That Nobody Is Representative. That's Just Narrative Nonsense. People May Be Part Of A Larger Story Or Structure Or Institution, But They're Still People. Making Them Representative Loses Sight Of That. Which Is Why A Lot Of Writing About Low-income People Makes Them Into Saints, Perfect In Their Suffering.