My first memory isn’t the most vivid, but it is one that I can think of from time to time to provide me with a light happiness. The main focus was the sun shining through the white shear curtains. I watched as the wind went through the curtains pushing them into a delicate dance. I stayed for a couple more minutes relishing in the comforting heat in the sun until I got bored and went on into another adventure. The basement. I slowly walked down the creaky stairs to the basement were nothing but the laundry machine and dirty clothing lay. As I scanned the room something beautiful caught my eye, a little blue toy figure that was waiting to be played with. There was only one problem, it was in a laundry basket that sky scraped over my littleness. I had to devise a way to get the toy, and pushing the basket down was much too simple for my clever mind. I had a much better idea: take a head start a couple steps back up the stairs and take a dive into the basket. What could possibly go wrong?
I slowly walked towards the stairs, ready to take on whatever was hiding in the dark abyss at the bottom of the stairs. Nothing could scare me, I was a man on a very specific mission. Defeat the frail basket monster and retrieve the the toy!
I stupidly attempted to walk toward the stairs to get to my basement. This simple task felt like ages because walking itself was a task on its own. I took a rest at the entrance of the basement to catch my frail breath.
“I began eating. It was terrible. I felt as if I were eating them, what they believed in, what they were. I didn’t chew any of it, I just swallowed it to get rid of it”(41). This passage is a good place to begin when talking about the formation of Henry’s identity. He just received quite the beating and is starting to grow colder as the novel progresses. It seems as though when he says that he just swallowed the food to get rid of it, he is basically referring to his entire childhood. Something that he did not spend too much time thinking about, rather he just pushed it to the back of his mind to get rid of it. It also begins demonstrating the little, but apparent defiance that Henry develops, which will, for sure, grow into a full out rebellion in a later time. Henry hates people. When you grow up in a world that is dominated by absolute hatred it is very difficult to be positive and not hate basically everything around you. Hate for a young child is not very likely, due to the ignorance a child possesses, but I wouldn’t categorize Henry as a normal child given the circumstances that surround his life. A large portion of his Identity could be formed around the word terrible, everything in his life is terrible: his family, his school, his house, the weather, his own mind, his age. What is truly terrible is the fact that known of what happens to him has a firm reason nor did he have control of anything that happened to him as a young child.