The title suits the book, because it invokes Didion’s authoritative role as a literary icon (a role about which she is no doubt dubious) and her rare talent to, in fact, say what she means. Perhaps she finds the requirement to explain tiresome, or is frustrated that you even need telling. It is an intimate gesture, yet also fatigued. Didion has pulled you aside and, after describing a feeling or sensation or scene, she is ready to share why her subject matters, to unveil the stakes to you specifically. It’s formulated as a softened threat, a moderated aggression, an effort to make whatever follows palatable, perhaps because the writer believes you require gentle easing into the truth, a methodical preparation. Let me be clear, let me be frank, let me enlighten you. Taken literally, the phrase requests permission, but read properly as an idiom, permission is assumed. It encapsulates Joan Didion’s authorial attitude with a march of monosyllables, every second word a pronoun: she is a straight shooter, made weary by circumlocution. The title introduces two characters, writer and reader, the writer in comfortable control.
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