She wasn't the woman for me, she wasn't my happiness, she was my misfortune. I wonder if I was too brutal and aweless. Have I right to call the mother of my children my misfortune?

You would have been deranked and perhaps made a record clerk --no personal reflections, but such things do happen-- and if you now were filing cards all day you would surely be much happier if you could believe in our divinity.

“A Fistful of Dollars” and “Once Upon a Time in the West” are famous spaghetti westerns.

But the only examples that Benson provides of this separate Fieldingesque perspective are the novel's title and what he calls the self-pitying epigraph from Gertrude Stein (ibid.).