Joelle's last walk (Memory and Forgetting)
She sits alone in her linen veil and pretty skirt, obliquely looked at, listening to bits of conversation she reels in out of the overall voices’ noise but seeing no one really else, the absolute end of her life and beauty running in a kind of stuttered old hand-held 16mm before her eyes, projected against the white screen on her side, for once, from Uncle Bud and twirling to Orin and Jim and YYY, all the way up to today’s wet walk here from the Red Line’s Downtown stop
Context
Joelle at Molly Notkin's party, purse packed for the overdose she's planned: the pre-death life-review rendered in the family's own medium — memory as hand-held 16mm, stuttered, projected "on her side, for once" (the filmed woman finally in the audience of her own life). The direct descendant of the father's "myself seen by me, frame by frame" (049, p. 169, below).