Concert of Ghosts, Campbell Armstrong
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1mirrani
After a couple of monumental acid trips, scenic routes through light shows and into the vortices of the cosmos, who would want to be called Clyde Bullington or George Kryzaminski or some such thing? People became Sunshine Halo and Plenty O'Trips, outlandish names that now seemed ludicrous. He had the mildewed sent in his nostrils of an extinct generation. p47
I can't say why I loved this line, but I did.
The big house retained sounds in a miserly way. Nothing echoed. Nothing reverberated. It was a dead house--and it made Tennant more curious than ever. p80
I might not have gotten that line exactly right, because I copied it from a book that has already gone back to the library and can't check, but I think that's about it. Something went wrong with my cut and paste... ANYWAY, I wrote this down because I could so easily FEEL this when I read it. It was kind of spooky.
He thought of the small chalet room and how it had changed from a place of love to a place of recrimination--and from there to violence. Transitions. Everywhere. A world in constant flux. p166
I didn't make many notes, but when I did it was... Wow. I can't even talk on this one... You just have to experience it. Actually, it almost makes it feel like you're on a drug trip while trying to work your mind around it and all... Even when it's not a complicated thing.
Love was the constant, whether forgotten or not. It persisted even in neglect, in amnesia, it sustained itself in concealed corners and shuttered rooms, in damp lonely spaces. p203
That's the end of my notes on this one. I didn't think I was going to like this book when I picked it up for my march reading (I needed something by a Scottish author, even though this is considered American fiction), but in the end I really did get caught up in the story. I read it very quickly. There's a big, unbelievable mystery here that's sort of sad when you get down too it. And terrifying.
https://www.librarything.com/review/107183784
I can't say why I loved this line, but I did.
The big house retained sounds in a miserly way. Nothing echoed. Nothing reverberated. It was a dead house--and it made Tennant more curious than ever. p80
I might not have gotten that line exactly right, because I copied it from a book that has already gone back to the library and can't check, but I think that's about it. Something went wrong with my cut and paste... ANYWAY, I wrote this down because I could so easily FEEL this when I read it. It was kind of spooky.
He thought of the small chalet room and how it had changed from a place of love to a place of recrimination--and from there to violence. Transitions. Everywhere. A world in constant flux. p166
I didn't make many notes, but when I did it was... Wow. I can't even talk on this one... You just have to experience it. Actually, it almost makes it feel like you're on a drug trip while trying to work your mind around it and all... Even when it's not a complicated thing.
Love was the constant, whether forgotten or not. It persisted even in neglect, in amnesia, it sustained itself in concealed corners and shuttered rooms, in damp lonely spaces. p203
That's the end of my notes on this one. I didn't think I was going to like this book when I picked it up for my march reading (I needed something by a Scottish author, even though this is considered American fiction), but in the end I really did get caught up in the story. I read it very quickly. There's a big, unbelievable mystery here that's sort of sad when you get down too it. And terrifying.
https://www.librarything.com/review/107183784
