Sunday, January 25, 2009

Of ghosts

The house has a nautical feel to it. Sea breezes make the timbers shift and groan, and the blue, salt-laden light in the windows is positively oceanic. The air reeks of brine and the floors when the sun comes in give off a tang of pitch. Then there is the faint smell of rancid apples everywhere: I might be Jim Hawkins, off on a grand adventure.

J. Banville, Ghosts, London, Secker & Warburg, 1993, p.38


At 9:09 pm, Blogger netstalker said...

At 10:56 pm, Blogger Geist said...

Brilliant link, many thanks.

At 10:59 pm, Blogger netstalker said...

dachte ich doch, dass es dir gefallen wird.


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