Lady Oracle

I thought of Castro as a tiger in bed though, with those cigars and that beard, which would explain his vogue in North Americia. But Mao was my favorite, you could tell he liked to eat. I pictured him wolfing down huge Chiinese meals, with relish and no guilt, happy children climbing all over him. He was like an inflated Jolly Green Giant except yellow, he wrote poetry, he had fun. He was fat but successful and he didn't take any shit about it. The home life of Stalin was boring, too much was known about it, he was such a puritan anyway. But Mao, what a garden of delights. He encouraged jugglers and spectacles, he liked the color red and flags and parades and table tennis; he knew the people needed food and escape, not just sermons. I liked to think about him in the bathtub, all covered with soap, like an enormous cherub, beaming away and very appreciative while some adoring female - me! - scrubbed his back.