Thursday, December 30, 2010


I started reading this book on an unexcpected lay over during Christmas. Since apprehensively turning the first page, I have been fascinated by the sheer joy and beauty that the language and words on each page have brought to my ears. For a debut novelist, Paul Harding has produced the most lyrical display of language that instantly elevates itself up from the white washed pages and dances among the waves of imagination, painting a picture of whatever your mind will allow you to see...
This is one of my favourite excerpts from this Pulitzer Prize winner, Tinkers:

"Cosmos Borealis: Light skin of sky and cloud and mountain on the still pond. Water body beneath teeming with reeds and silt and trout (sealed in day skin and night skin and ice lids), which we draw out with silk threads, fitted with snags of fur or bright feathers. Skin like glass like liquid like skin; our words scrieved the slick surface (reflecting risen moon, spinning stars, flitting bats), so that we only had to whisper across the wide plate. Green drakes blossomed powder dry among the stars, glowing white, out of pods, which rose from the muck at the bottom of the pond and broke open on the skin of the water. We whispered across the galaxies, Who needs Mars?"

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