My Brilliant Friend

“I turned the word over and over in my head, Communist, a word that was meaningless to me, but which the teacher had immediately branded with negativity. Communist, Communist, Communist. It captivated me. Communist and son of a murderer.”

I recognized myself too much in this book, to the point that when I was done reading, I just stared at the last page, thinking about the “alienness” I used to feel as well.