And, of course, when Jimmy grows up, he marries someone who looks, from certain angles, a lot like his own mother. He rebels against his father by taking up religion with a vengeance and behaving in a sanctimonious, classically passive-aggressive mode, which is the perfect method for driving an active, edgy businessman to distraction. But somewhere in the middle of his life, Kleinman suddenly becomes a collector of fine art. And the framer of these paintings happens to be Japanese. And of all the passages the framer decides to translate, he produces a couple of haikus and a love letter from that artist-soldier to the mother of his young son.
Life keeps ripping by.
Driven by demons, perhaps from his youth, Kleinman keeps working and stowing money away, even when he no longer needs to. Jimmy urges his dad to live with them, although that's the last thing in the world father or son really wants. And he has a beautiful new woman friend. Perhaps most important, he's in possession of a undelivered diary, a serious cosmic errand to run, if he feels like it. Tics and quirks and ancient information we don't even know about would seem to make up much of what we think of as ourselves and as our souls.