I am taken aback at the skills of Carson McCullers in creating a world of isolation in the tiniest moments. This book almost felt like a collection of short stories focused on loneliness--the feeling was that acute. This book is devastating, and I'd love to say there was brightness, too, but there wasn't. I always have this sharp pain every time I watch that scene in The Bicycle Thief when the father and son are eating together in the restaurant. I felt like that for the entirety of The Heart is a Lonely Hunter. 
 Biff says to Blount, on page 20, "You're not fit to walk around amongst people." Which is such an intense thing to say, and it's something we all feel occasionally. All of these characters can relate to this. 
 A large theme is places full of people leaving everyone feeling alone. On page 30, in the restaurant between the late night and early morning shifts: "The mutual distrust between the men who were just awakened and those who were ending a long night gave everyone a feeling of estrangement." We are all lonely, equally lonely, even when we are together. 
 I also love the "quarrel without words" on page 75. It is a great example of the disconnecting feeling woven throughout the pages. "Let us quit this quarreling," Portia's father says. "It doesn't take words to make a quarrel." That feeling, wordless quarreling, is another example of McCullers's finely painted isolation. I know this type of loneliness. You want to say something to fix it, but there is nothing you can do. 
 The most depressing Christmas scene ever can be found on page 180--"While it was still dark she and George went out on the sidewalk and cracked nigger-toes and shot firecrackers and ate up the whole two-layer box of cherry candy. And by the time it was daylight they were sick to the stomach and tired out. She lay down on the sofa. She shut her eyes and went into the inside room." 
 On page 214 there is a scene in which everyone is talking but nobody is listening. It made me think of social media and how we are all talking, talking, talking, trying to connect. And alone. 
 Also, were Antonopoulos and Singer lovers? I feel like this is either an obvious or stupid question. It seemed clear to me but perhaps I am way over-reading. Their love was so strong. It seemed more than platonic. And (view spoiler)[Antonopoulos's death was so sudden. Singer's, too. Those moments stopped me. (hide spoiler)] 
 "How can the dead be truly dead when they still live in the souls of those who are left behind?" Page 333, beautiful writing. "He hit out with his fists and felt the soft squish of wet mouths." Page 339. Eww! But beautiful. 
 I also have this note written in the middle of all of my notes. And I'm not sure why I wrote it. Maybe someone can help. I just wrote: Love is Strange. I cannot remember which part made me think that or why, or even what it has to do with the book, really. But it is. 
 I loved this book but it wasn't a total HOOT to read. Brace yourselves. Follow up with something light? 
 xoxo