So, back to the language. You can read it for yourself, of course, but here’s a snippet:
“The afternoon was ragged with leaves and the dreary, hungry untidiness of a child’s half past four. Faces and streets seemed wet and serious. The hem of sky, undone, hung down dirty and gray.”If there is no other reason to read this story, there is at least this amazing language.
June 2, 2008: "A Night at the Opera by Janet Frame