Oh, but the finesse!
“The first birth of the Incandezas’ second son was a
surprise. The tall and eye-poppingly curvaceous Avril Incandenza did not show,
bled like clockwork; no hemorrhoids or gland-static; no pica; affect and
appetite normal; she threw up some mornings but who didn’t in those days?”
And Mario is born “on a metal-lit November evening.”
“He had to be more or less scraped out, Mario, like the meat
of an oyster from a womb to whose sides he’d been found spiderishly clinging,
tiny and unobtrusive, attached by cords of sinew at both feet and a hand, the
other fist stuck to his face by the same material.”
Mario.
Avril.
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