«to recreate the syntax and measure of poor human prose and stand before you speechless and intelligent and
shaking with shame, rejected yet confessing out the soul to conform to the rhythm of thought in his naked and endless head,
Day - Lewis» strained shouts, his pleading,
shaking body show a man who's resolved to find some victory, however pyrrhic, to cement himself as one of the few who did not give himself over to a plague of hysteria and hatred, as well as someone who can finally look his wife in the eye
with love rather than
shame.