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"Runaway" (2004) - Eight Short Stories by Alice Munro (1931-), Canadien Author and Winner of the 2013 Nobel Prize For Literature


DonRocks

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I began it today, and noticed that in the first two pages of text (the half-page on page one, then the second page, and then half of the third page), there are fully fifteen (15!) nouns (people, places and things) thrown at you - that is a lot. Your previous post served as a warning to me to take good note of these, and commit them to memory (I have my own memory tricks, and each time I see any of these 15 things repeated in the story, I'll know exactly what they are, or who they are). Although I'm only a few pages into "Powers," I would suggest to all readers doing whatever you can to memorize these "people, places and things" early on - it will make your life a lot easier as you get deeper into the story.

Yes, I recommend reading it carefully and without allowing too much time to pass before finishing it. A lot happens, and nothing is as it seems.

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Runaway, Passion and Tricks are the stories I will remember when I think about this book.

I get "Tricks" for sure.

I might get "Runaway" - I'll have to remind myself.

But I just went back and re-read / re-skimmed "Passion," and I still don't see it.

What am I missing here? I tried, I really did. "Passion" did almost nothing for me, and it pains me that someone of your intelligence appreciates it so much, yet I do not (Elizabeth, it's not clear to me whether you liked this story or not, but DIShGo, you clearly loved it).

With the exception of Mr. and Mrs. Travers, and possibly Grace, I felt no empathy towards any of the characters. The story somewhat plodded, and ended up nowhere - even having something of a surprise ending which I still don't understand. I think I "get" that's it's about Grace, but how, and why? What was the character development as the plot got deeper?

I do believe that between you and Elizabeth, and possibly some review sites, additional detail will be pointed out to me that will make me say, "Aha!", but I haven't seen it yet (I just re-read / re-skimmed it this morning, and it's only 8:30, so there is possibly more work to do).

"Tricks," on the other hand, needed none of this - this was hands-down a great story. Not just "obvious," but great - one of my very favorite short stories ever, and simply needed no explanation of "why it's great." I get it! "Passion," on the other hand, just droned on, going nowhere, ending up nowhere, and highlighting various characters who almost seem irrelevant to me. Clearly, the "meat" of the story was about Grace and Neal (with Maury as a poor, secondary man who was arguably mistreated - or was he?) And the others? Gretchen? Wat? Mavis? The four grandchildren? Where do they come into play here?

Darn it, this is so frustrating because I'm usually quite good at drilling deeply into nuances, but instead of striking gold here, I've merely come up with more-and-more useless rock.

I may go look at some review sites, but any help you two could give me would be much appreciated. I'm trying! I really am!

Regardless, the gems in "Runaway," to me, make the clunkers worth suffering through, even if I never learn to appreciate them; still, I hope to find that appreciation at some point soon. Maybe this had some personal meaning to Munro that I'm simply unable to decipher.

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I get "Tricks" for sure.

I might get "Runaway" - I'll have to remind myself.

But I just went back and re-read / re-skimmed "Passion," and I still don't see it.

What am I missing here? I tried, I really did. "Passion" did almost nothing for me, and it pains me that someone of your intelligence appreciates it so much, yet I do not (Elizabeth, it's not clear to me whether you liked this story or not, but DIShGo, you clearly loved it).

With the exception of Mr. and Mrs. Travers, and possibly Grace, I felt no empathy towards any of the characters. The story somewhat plodded, and ended up nowhere - even having something of a surprise ending which I still don't understand. I think I "get" that's it's about Grace, but how, and why? What was the character development as the plot got deeper?

I do believe that between you and Elizabeth, and possibly some review sites, additional detail will be pointed out to me that will make me say, "Aha!", but I haven't seen it yet (I just re-read / re-skimmed it this morning, and it's only 8:30, so there is possibly more work to do).

"Tricks," on the other hand, needed none of this - this was hands-down a great story. Not just "obvious," but great - one of my very favorite short stories ever, and simply needed no explanation of "why it's great." I get it! "Passion," on the other hand, just droned on, going nowhere, ending up nowhere, and highlighting various characters who almost seem irrelevant to me. Clearly, the "meat" of the story was about Grace and Neal (with Maury as a poor, secondary man who was arguably mistreated - or was he?) And the others? Gretchen? Wat? Mavis? The four grandchildren? Where do they come into play here?

"Passion" is a coming of age story about a young, poor girl from a small town trying to fit in where she clearly doesn't. It is about a young woman discovering who she wants to be versus what she is expected to be.

Maybe its because I am female, or maybe its because I grew up in a small, sleepy town that I desperately wanted to get out of, but there was a lot in "Passion" that resonated with me.

The "meat" of the story is about Grace and her discovery of herself. Neil was just a dark, doomed individual with whom she spent an afternoon of self discovery. There was no Grace and Neil, except for the imagined passion between them that existed only in her mind.

I loved the beginning of the story, when she is older and goes back to the house, wishing it had stayed the same, but also hoping it had changed. I get that feeling when I go back to my hometown. Parts of it exist in a vacuum (we have had the same mayor for 51 years) and other things have changed so much I can hardly recognize the place.

Grace was an outsider who didn't fit in. She was raised by her aunt and uncle who caned chairs for a living. She was smart, but her family didn't have the money to finance a higher education for her. She even stayed in high school longer than she had to, so she could learn.

"The principal of the school had a talk with her, telling her this was getting her nowhere since she was not going to be able to go to college, and anyway no college course required such a full plate. Why was she doing this? Did she have any plans?"

"No, said Grace, she just wanted to learn everything you could learn for free. Before she started her career of caning."

She met Maury and she fell in love with his family. That is the significance of all of those additional characters. She loved the Sunday family dinners together, talking and playing games. She loved hanging out in their library, sitting in a rich leather chair, losing herself in one of their books. She loved Mrs. Travers as much as Maury loved her.

But she didn't love Maury. She wanted to love Maury. She threw herself physically at Maury, but deep down, felt no passion for him. I don't think she intentionally mistreated him. She liked him as a person, but she was more passionate about his family than she was about him.

Deciding to go with Neil that afternoon sealed Grace's fate that there would be no marriage to Maury, which was something, deep down, she dreaded anyway. There would be no more Sunday afternoons with the family; no sure ticket out of her less than promising future. Driving around aimlessly with a despondent man whom she found physically attractive, but who was passionate about alcohol and not her, opened Grace's eyes to the possibility that there were other choices for her besides Maury or caning chairs. She could do anything she wanted, but it needed to be something she felt passionate about, a feeling that, until that day, she had only faked.

I enjoyed how Munro played with the many meanings of the word passion. I particularly liked the reference to Anna Karenina, and Mrs. Travers' observation that, "I suppose that's how sympathies change as you get older. Passion gets pushed behind the washtubs."

This quote is one of favorite in the entire book. It sums up Grace's conviction that day, as well as the hazy way we remember things when looking back:

"Describing this passage, this change in her life, later on, Grace might say--she did say--that it was as if a gate had clanged shut behind her. But at the time there was no clang--acquiescence simply rippled through her, the rights of those left behind were smoothly cancelled."

"Her memory of this day remained clear and detailed, though there was a variation in the parts of it she dwelt on."

"And even in some of those details she must have been wrong."

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There is one other thing worth noting about "Passion" ( I realize this is long, but I am trying to get you to understand why I liked this story so much). The story, to me, is more about the relationship between Mrs. Travers and Grace than Grace and any of the men.

Mrs. Travers is very much like Grace. She loves books and learning for learning's sake. Mr. Travers is her Maury. He came along and provided stability and security for her after the death of her first husband, but there isn't much passion there. Mr. Travers speaks about Mrs. Travers' life before him as if it were an awful time. Mrs. Travers does not remember it that way.

Also, the movie Maury took Grace to when they first started dating is significant. He took her to see "Father of the Bride" and she hated it. He thought she hated it because she was a poor girl who couldn't afford to go to college, much less pay for a lavish wedding, and he admired her for that. But that really wasn't the case. Grace hated the movie because it represented what society expected her to be, not because it was financially out of her reach.

"She could not explain or quite understand that it wasn't altogether jealously she felt, it was rage. And not because she couldn't shop like that or dress like that. It was because that was what girls were supposed to be like. That was what men--people, everybody--thought they should be like. Beautiful, treasured. spoiled, selfish, pea-brained. That was what a girl should be, to be fallen in love with. Then she would become a mother and she'd be all mushily devoted to her babies. Not selfish anymore, but just as pea-brained. Forever."

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The more I think about "Passion," the more I remember why I liked it so much. To me, the story of Neil isn't about Neil at all. He and Mavis were unlikeable people that the reader does not give a hoot about. Neil is a representation of the dark, daring side of Grace. The side of her that was always there, but she was trying to suppress.

She felt physically attracted to Neil, but in fact, she was drawn to his reckless abandon. His selfishness. The way he did whatever he wanted and didn't worry about the consequences. She wanted to be like that. She wanted to get out of that sleepy town and discover the world.

Mrs. Travers saw that in Grace, and that is why she was given the money in the end. Although Mr. Travers delivers the check, he says, "We both hope you'll make good use of this." In the end, Grace gets what she wanted all along, a way out.

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Yes, I recommend reading it carefully and without allowing too much time to pass before finishing it. A lot happens, and nothing is as it seems.

Well, I finished "Powers" this morning, and I'd *love* to hear your analysis, something similar to what you did with "Passion" up above. :)

I finished the final word, closed the book while letting out a groan, laid back on the sofa, am typing this sentence, and am going to close the computer and go back to sleep, not knowing what I just read.

---

There are a couple paragraphs about "Powers" in this review on theguardian.com. Although I understand (and basically agree with) everything in the review, particularly the masterful way Munro took on the young Nancy's persona in the diary, and about how unaffectedly she wrote about 1927, I still feel like I don't "get" this story, and the closer we got towards the end, the less I got. I do need to go back and re-read the part about Nancy meeting Ollie in the Japanese restaurant because I don't remember her thinking he was lying about his marriage with Tessa (not to say he wasn't; just to say that I didn't pick up on it). This is a difficult story, and for me, the most challenging in the entire collection - is that a reasonable statement? I'll go so far as to say that I need to understand it better in order to like it (quite often, I will not appreciate an artwork of great complexity, but after I'm spoonfed a little, I'll begin to appreciate it more and more).

This blurb on bookbrowse.com asks some interesting questions (why, for example, was Wilf so marginialized in this story compared to Ollie?), but doesn't give any answers, and these are some answers I'd like to hear, even though there may be multiple answers.

On identitytheory.com, they list all the impressive things Munro does (assuming different voices, writing in different time periods, developing different characters). Yes, I know all that. Now someone please give me some red-meat insights into this story.

At least buriedinprint.com acknowledges how terribly difficult this story is to understand. The problem with me is, right now, I can't even think of any satisfying explanations. The dead flies, for example? The penultimate paragraph with Nancy feeling reprieved? I get the feeling this all has to do with "running away" - a couple times at the end, including the very final sentence, things behind the person are fading away. Something to do with the dead flies representing Nancy leaving behind (or being left behind by) Ollie and Tessa? Okay, fine, now tell me more.

I've always felt that I was a fairly sophisticated, insightful reader; Munro has stripped me of that notion.

I re-read "Powers" this morning, and I am so glad I did. My impression of the story changed completely. It is one of the strongest stories in the book, written primarily from the perspective of one character while actually being about another one.

Elements found throughout the other stories--dream sequences, beautiful turns of phrase, and people whose lives are not as they seem--are beautifully presented in this tale. The theme of wanting to run away also is prevalent throughout "Powers," making it the perfect ending to this wonderful book.

The strength of "Powers" is revealed in the stark contrast between the main characters. There are ordinary people longing to be extraordinary, and extraordinary people wishing for ordinary lives. There are conflicts and compromises, outright lies and lies of omission.

I could read this story (and to be honest, the entire book) several times over, and each time something new would be revealed. That, to me, is the power of Munro's storytelling.

 
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The first time I read "Powers, I thought, "What just happened?" I felt bewildered by the story, not understanding what I had just read or even why it was included in this book. The second time, not only did I have a better understanding of the story, I felt a very strong conviction that it was the perfect ending to "Runaway."

Yes, it is the most complicated story in the book. It is more of a novella, spanning 50 years with subsections and varying points of view. It also is the only story set in an earlier time frame, a period that would have been before Munro's personal recollections.

There is a lot of symbolism in this story that is lost on me: the dead flies, the titles of the subsections, the woman baking blind mice. Tessa is telling Nancy Ollie is dead while the blind mice are being made. Does this symbolize her blindness to the truth? She can see the future, but she doesn't know her husband is alive? Is this a defense mechanism that allows her to go on? I wish I could understand it better, and I feel like Munro had a field day writing this one.

However, on a larger scale, particularly in relation to its place in the book, I have an understanding and an appreciation for "Powers." First, there is the Biblical perspective. Tessa, to me, is the perfect Christ figure. Word spreads of her powers, and people from all around are drawn to her and seek her out for help. Ollie is Judas, who sells her out for gold. Nancy is Peter who repeatedly denies Tessa. She thinks she is her friend and ally, yet every chance she gets to help her, she does not.

There are religious themes throughout this book, and it is interesting to note that it begins with the Old Testament sacrificial lamb, Carla and/or Flora, in "Runaway," explores Greek mythology throughout the trilogy, and touches on New Testament themes in "Trespasses" and "Passion." It culminates with "Powers," a story that brings to mind the story of Christ.

For me, "Powers" sums up what Munro is trying to say throughout the entire book. She reveals her characters' lives but doesn't try to fix or change them. Even the clairvoyant Tessa can't stop her life from taking terrible turns. Can she see into the future or not? Does it matter? Would it change anything?

It is significant that "Powers" is written from Nancy's point of view instead of Tessa's. It leaves the question in the readers mind as to whether or not Tessa really had supernatural powers, and if, in the end, that really mattered.

There is a lot of foreshadowing in this passage from a letter Nancy wrote to Tessa, as well as a strong message from Munro about the importance of simply living each day to the fullest:

"Getting and spending, we lay waste to our powers. Why do we let ourselves be so busy and miss doing things we should have, or would have, liked to do?"

No one can predict the future, Munro is reminding us. Life has twists and turns, and these are the things that make it beautiful, and often heart-wrenching. Munro's characters look back on their lives, realizing the pivotal moments that took them where they are now. These decisions and events--some within their control, and others not--shape their lives. Many of these women realized too late they had special "powers" all along that they did not put to use. Nancy's diary reveals a young girl caught up in her vanities and trivial concerns. She longs to be unusual and special, but feels hopelessly average. Ollie has similar thoughts, which is probably why they were both drawn to Tessa. It turns out, Nancy had the most "power" all along, and could have done something to save her friend. When she comes to this realization, sadly, it is too late.

Nancy is getting older, Wilf has died and people are worried about her. "Her children say that they hope she has not taken to Living in the Past."

The next paragraph, to me, sums up "Runaway" and Munro's purpose in writing it:

"But what she believes she is doing, what she wants to do if she can get the time to do it, is not so much to live in the past as to open it up and get one good look at it."

This is exactly what Munro, and each of her characters, do throughout this book.

Nancy realizes too late she had the power to help a friend in need. She tries in vain to correct her past mistake, but it is too late. Her dream briefly consoles her, but when she is fully awake she knows it was just a dream and not reality. Reality, for Nancy, is facing her aging self and the realization that her life, like the book, is coming to an imperfect close.

The Bible tells us, "ashes to ashes, dust to dust,' reminding us that our time on earth is finite. At the end of Runaway, Munro does the same.

Nancy is led by a force outside herself from the dream back to reality. "Gently, inexorably leading her away from what begins to crumble behind her, to crumble and darken tenderly into something like soot and soft ash."

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Jesus.

I was so bogged down in the details of this story that I completely forgot to relate it to the other stories.

Your analysis is ingenious, and I suspect it's mostly correct.

I also think there's more - much more - to this story, and to all these stories, than has yet been covered in this discussion - your example of the blind mice is a good one. I suspect each and every thing Munro included - every object, every song, every name - is here for a reason. (I mean, she's free to choose anything she wants to choose, so why *wouldn't* she choose something that adds another layer of depth or texture.)

Which brings me to a question: Do you think Munro puts an undue burden on the reader to try and figure out her symbolism?

I found this book damnably difficult - deceptively difficult - because it's so stuffed with symbols that it cannot possibly all be comprehended.

Maybe this is what Jonathan Franzen meant when he said, "Just read it" (or whatever it is that he said).

See, I can't rest until I've uncovered every gemstone, precious or semi-precious, so I almost *resent* the author for sowing so many seeds to unearth.

Are you (DIShGo) satisfied with your understanding of this book?

I am not, and I don't suspect I ever will be.

This is why I've been watching The Twilight Zone. One little twist per episode (actually several twists in "Death Ship"), easily understood, and the whole story is wrapped up and paid for. Then, you shut off the lights and go to sleep.

With *this* thing, I'll be staring at the ceiling, bug-eyed, at 3 AM.

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I also think there's more - much more - to this story, and to all these stories, than has yet been covered in this discussion - your example of the blind mice is a good one. I suspect each and every thing Munro included - every object, every song, every name - is here for a reason. (I mean, she's free to choose anything she wants to choose, so why *wouldn't* she choose something that adds another layer of depth or texture.)

Which brings me to a question: Do you think Munro puts an undue burden on the reader to try and figure out her symbolism?

I found this book damnably difficult - deceptively difficult - because it's so stuffed with symbols that it cannot possibly all be comprehended.

Maybe this is what Jonathan Franzen meant when he said, "Just read it" (or whatever it is that he said).

See, I can't rest until I've uncovered every gemstone, precious or semi-precious, so I almost *resent* the author for sowing so many seeds to unearth.

Are you (DIShGo) satisfied with your understanding of this book?

I am not, and I don't suspect I ever will be.

I think there are multiple layers to these stories that we did not touch. This book gets richer with each reading. That is what makes it exceptional. I will keep it on my shelf and read it again, only to discover gems that I missed the first, and in some cases second, time around.

To answer your earlier questions about Wilf's marginalization, this is Tessa's story, being told through Nancy, so it makes perfect sense.

I don't think Munro puts an undue burden on her readers with her symbolism because the stories are enjoyable whether you understand it all or not. Yes, it is greatly enhanced when you do "get" it, but the raw beauty and simplicity of her words make it a worthwhile read on a number of levels.

There are several passages throughout the book that I know must be significant, but for the life of me, I can't figure out why. The part where Tessa is baking seemed important to me for a number of reasons, but I didn't pick up the blind mice connection until I was re-reading that passage this morning. Often, Munro will give you clues that say, "Pay attention, this is important!" She uses capitalization, italics and the placement of certain passages within the text to say, "This is worth noticing." I feel like she wants us to figure it out, but she doesn't want to make it too easy. It's always more rewarding when you have to work for something, after all.

I am satisfied with my understanding of this book because reading it gave me a great deal of pleasure. Ultimately, that is why I read fiction. I connected with the stories on a personal level, and that, for me, is more important than the author's intent. Yes, it troubles me that there are things Munro intended for me to comprehend and I did not. That is why I will read it again at some point. But, as in all things, we don't have to fully understand something to love it. Sometimes trying to understand something is more than enough.

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What can I do to make this Fine Arts section more of a Discussion Forum? I would *love* to discuss minutiae about any and all of these topics - literature, sporting events, music, theater - with anyone and everyone here, and am willing to go so far as to see plays, read books, or learn pieces that will give me enough of a base with which to do it.

Literature and Film especially, where there is so much hidden meaning. DIShGo and I started, but she got busy, and things have turned into more of a "reporting" format which wasn't my intent. It's nice, but not my intent, since Wikipedia already does that very, very well. I want a challenge of brilliant minds at play, for all the world to see and from which to become inspired. I loved our Troilus and Cressida discussion, but I'm not sure how many people were following along, so maybe we can have a vote on what film to see next, what book to read next, what sportsperson to discuss next, what artist to discuss next, etc. - you certainly don't have to make an expert to make a single point, especially if that point is voiced as an opinion. C'mon gang, this is important to me. What do I need to do? I've slacked off on Dylan - maybe I need to keep the ball rolling there, and to get my TV posts finished (I've fallen behind there, too). The First season of All In The Family is the way I'd like to attack full-season posts going forward, and changing everything into that format will take some doing, but I think it will pay off in the long term.

Are there any other important issues we're missing? Cars? Houses? Hotels? (I definitely want to review hotels like we review restaurants, but I'm not sure how much "depth" there is there), and darn it I wish people would press me on statements I make about restaurants instead of just reading and thinking, 'Gee, he knows a lot.' If I say something about a particular dish, and you disagree, then *please* speak up! I won't bite! I *love* intelligent discussion and even intelligent disagreement because, for me, the purpose of a debate isn't "to win" it's "to further knowledge," and when you're finished, you shake hands and have a beer together. And if you don't drink, then you have tea.

I want the best and brightest minds in the world to be on this website. Simul and JoshNE are both physicians (Josh, I believe, is an optometrist), and I *love* the discussion we're having about science, and take offense to absolutely nothing that has been said to me - that's a given, and it's also a given that I respect them both. Let's make this the baddest-ass discussion forum in the world and I *mean* that. Where should I start? I literally have 24 hours of work a day, 7 days a week, to do here, so it's a matter of making priorities for me. Do I ask too many questions as is? That's the best way for me to learn: learn a little, ask something, learn a little more, ask some more, etc. Right now, in fact, I'm doing just this with Type 1 Diabetes with just an ordinary mom of a Type 1 Diabetic, and I'm learning *so much*, and I'd love for that discussion to be held here because surely others don't know (I'm learning about islets in the pancreas, beta cells, the fact that a hormone is a "signalling molecule" - there's no way I couldn't have accurately defined "hormone" for you a week ago!). But I doubt others would be willing to do the research that I am "just for fun," and I certainly get it if the mom wouldn't want any of that public. If any of you get offended when I ask you questions about your posts, would you please write me? I have no way of knowing, but I'm sure that most don't; some do. And it's the some who do from whom I want to ease away and just enjoy reading.

I dream of having a "Member Index" with each member name followed by his or her areas of interest - not professional ares of interest; just passionate hobbies, areas of expertise (keep in mind that almost none of us are experts, and you won't be giving a lecture to a group of PhDs, so your criteria, at least your initial criteria, should be fairly low, and you should *always* be prepare to come up against an expert just because of the sheer number of members we have. I *love* encountering people with more knowledge than I have in any given subject because it gives me a chance to learn, and few things are more satisfying to me than learning. That's why I dine the way I do, that's why I travel, that's why I read, that's one of the reasons I run this website, but I'd be lying if I said I felt tested in any way - maybe the threads that would test me are already out there (the Bob Dylan thread, for example), and I've been purposefully steering clear of them. A group of members we had early on also left the website due to some false information about me that had been spread around by one very unstable and dangerous person (actually, there were several, but one in particular was worse than the rest, cf: Jim Leff), and I still haven't recovered from that. Yes, I made *some* mistakes early on, but nothing anybody else hasn't done, and nothing I hadn't done in the past; I'm a very different person than I was just five short years ago - I thought after Karen died I'd reached maximum humility, but I hadn't; I'd reached maximum grief, yes, but it took a second major, "once-in-a-lifetime" tragedy (actually depending on how you define tragedy, a third, fourth, fifth, sixth, and seventh tragedy of normal scope) to make me realize what true humility entails. And I hope none of you are ever forced to assume that mental posture because I wouldn't wish it on anyone in the world. Nevertheless, it has made me do a 180, and I now wish to spend the entire rest of my life doing good for other people while at the same time having fun doing it (hell, I deserve some fun). I also do not equate happiness with money, as long as you have enough to be comfortable in a modest lifestyle, but that's just me, and I wouldn't expect others to share that opinion to the same degree I do - if I were to become wealthy, I would travel more, stay in slightly nicer hotel rooms, do different things, maybe buy a car that doesn't have 110,000 miles on it, move from my somewhat cramped dwelling, buy a nicer piano, and use the rest to help others and to help Matt. I'm already happy with what little I have, and if I won the lottery, I'd only be modestly happier. I would ask anyone who pities me for having made that statement to reevaluate your life's criteria.

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