Excerpt from Prayers for the Stolen by Jennifer Clement

I had seen the house on television. I had never walked on a marble floor before, which was like walking on a piece of ice, but I had seen it. I had never sat down at a perfectly set table, with two forks, two knives, a soup spoon, and an ironed linen napkin, but I had seen it. I had never used a salt shaker or looked at star-shaped ice cubes in my glass, but I had seen it. I knew then that I could go to the Pyramids in Egypt and they’d be familiar. I was sure I could ride a horse or drive a Jeep on a safari in Africa. I knew how to cook lasagna and lasso a calf.

I remembered some of the violence and catastrophes I’d watched on television that had helped to build my television-knowledge.

When I thought of this, I tasted sour milk in my mouth like milk that sat out on the table in the jungle heat for too long. Yes, a flood could feel familiar. Yes, a car crash could feel familiar. I thought yes, a rape could feel familiar. Yes, I could be dying and even the death bed would be familiar.

Then I thought of Mike at that ranch and the blood splattered on his clothes and I knew what had happened even though I had not been inside that broken-down shack.

I’d seen my life on television.

What do you think? Have you had a similar experience? How does what you’ve seen on television inform the way you interpret the world?

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