We're the sons appalled by violence, with no capacity for inflicting physical pain, useless at beating and clubbing, unfit to pulverize even the most deserving enemy, though not necessarily without turbulence, temper, even ferocity. We have teeth as the cannibals do, but they are there, imbedded in our jaws, the better to help us articulate. When we lay waste, when we efface, it isn't with raging fists or ruthless schemes or insane sprawling violence but with our words, our brains, with mentality, with all the stuff that produced the poignant abyss between our fathers and us and that they themselves broke their backs to give us.
The passage reflects a profound disconnection between generations, portraying a group of sons who reject physical violence and aggression. Instead of inflicting harm, they harness the power of words and intellect, emphasizing that their strength lies in articulation and thought rather than in physical confrontation. This highlights a deep contrast to their forebears, who may have relied on brute force as a means of expressing themselves or dealing with their adversaries.
The sons acknowledge their natural instincts, symbolized by their metaphorical 'teeth', which are dormant and restrained. This imagery illustrates their struggle with inner turbulence and rage that they do not express through violent actions. Rather, they recognize the enduring legacy left by their fathers, who worked hard to create a better future, a legacy that has both shaped them and distinguished them from the past. They grapple with the complexities of their identity and the weight of expectations, channeling their energy into the articulation of their experiences.
