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333 pages, Paperback
First published October 1, 1976
The son did not lift his head for a long time. He had the reply ready. One he had thought over for himself a hundred, a thousand times the last few tears. What did he want? He wanted most of all to live his life as himself...he wanted to live the truth, live it as Robert Henry Cozad, the son of John J. and Theresa Cozad. Be what he was; yes, live as himself. But this could not be, not in the face of that curious mixture of pride and fear that seemed at the bottom of the father's long persistence in his assumed name. That curious romanticism, perhaps inseparable from the gambler. As Robert thought of this now he laid his brushes down and reached into the cigar box, always open, waiting, When fragrant smoke crept in blue layerings along the room he spoke. "I want the truth, as near to it as possible. I want to grasp the essence of everything which is its final truth" (331).If this soliloquy seems improbable, perhaps it's only because the work of history itself is improbable; it's too improbable to find sources enough from which to reconstruct the inner workings of a human mind, one you have never met. "Paint a portrait to know the sitter," (332) but as Sandoz sees it, not even John J. and Robert can know each other. If a father and son have such trouble, she implies, what good can come from history? Son of the Gamblin' Man provides an assumed answer: a record of exciting coincidences and a blank sketchpad for imagination.