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In Cold Blood transformation. Free essay! Download now

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In Cold Blood transformation.

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Downloads to date: N/A | Words: 883 | Submitted: 11-Jan-2012
Spelling accuracy: 98.1% | Number of pages: 2 | Filetype: Word .doc

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In Cold Blood transformation. essay previewIn Cold Blood transformation. essay preview


A transformation of a scene from Truman Capote's In Cold Blood.


An extract from the autobiography of critically acclaimed investigative journalist, Daniel Sandison, whom resided in Kansas during the Clutter killings. An interview with Perry helped shape his career.


Perry Smith: Criminal by trade, murderer by chance.

"Death doesn't worry me," claimed Perry Smith, tapping his fingers to a rhythm on the desk between us, "death is something that happens to everybody. Why should it bother me?"

It was every interviewer's dream. Smith had noticed my age, and had obviously delved into circumstance, settling me down and giving me something to write about. I didn't feel warmth in his presence, the majority of what he said made me feel the opposite of that, but I appreciated the thought that he'd put into this.

"In a word," I commenced, "describe to me your childhood." Silence broken only by a sigh. Perry's mouth opened twice, as if to utter a response, but his voice remained enclosed. "Eventful?" he pondered finally.
"Why eventful?"
"Well, a lot happened. A lorra' dramatic stuff. Some good, some bad."
I had another question; "Would you blame your childhood for, you know?"
"Well, it sure didn't happen in my childhood." Perry responded, abruptly.
I asked him what did happen in his childhood, and he replied with tales of a dishevelled life as an adolescent, spent on the road with his Father, and as a recluse in the Salvation Army, "Religion means nothin' to me," he claimed.

Mention of Hickock, the lesser half of the Clutter killers, was rare. Perry didn't speak of 'Dick' unless asked about him or the murder. I crept towards that topic. "Are you still in contact with Hickock, at all?"
"Was hardly in contact with him back then?" he revealed. "Once the obvious happened, we knew that we'd reached the end."
"The end of what?"
"Our friendship. Well, if you can call it that."

Smith looked rough. His eyes cursed off sleep deprivation, his hair thick and greasy; he looked the part. His physical and mental features didn't coincide, though. To talk to, Perry wasn't a tired man. He spoke of literature and music. We didn't share similar tastes, but "that's alright. We developed in different eras." He shared ambitions, just like me and you, and unfortunately he wasn't going to be able to fulfil them...

"I'm fascinated by the human body" he explained, "Y'know the way food passes through us? And the way one organ hardly bigger than my fist's keepin' me alive? That gets me going. I mean, the brain. The brain is what's making me say this. The brain's what made me do certain things in my life. If you can make the most out of your brain, there's endless possibilities for sure."

I sat engrossed in his every syllable. Perry seemed to be a mass thinker, ...

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