Summary

Guylain Vignolles is somewhat embarrassed by his unfortunate name, “which lent itself to an unfortunate spoonerism: Vilain Guignol—ugly puppet” (1). He wondered what his 36 years of life so far would have been like had he not felt the need to avoid drawing attention to himself because of his name. As it was, he waited as usual for his train, anticipating the ride but dreading the work day that would follow. The other passengers watched him as the train pulled up. In Chapter 2, he stepped into the train compartment. He sat himself on a plastic seat to begin his ritual. Opening his briefcase, he took out a few tattered pieces of paper and he cleared his throat to silence the compartment. He proceeded to read aloud a page from a book about a young boy watching his father butcher a rabbit. This was Guylain...