DiscussionIn the book, Richard Wright recalls:
Hunger stole upon me so slowly that at first I was not aware of what hunger really meant. Hunger had
always been more or less at my elbow when I played, but when I was five years old I began to wake up
at night to find hunger at my bedside, staring at me. The hunger I had known before this had been no
grim, hostile stranger, it had been a normal hunger that had made me beg constantly for a crust of
bread, and when I ate a crust or two I was satisfied. But now for the first time in my life, I have to pause
and think of what’s happening to me.