Sublime

Je n'avais jamais vu, dans la vie civile, un homme aussi nerveux et aussi impatient que Robert Cohn. Cela m'amusait. C'était dégoûtant de m'en réjouir, mais je me sentais dégoûtant. Cohn avait un talent remarquable pour éveiller dans chacun les pires défauts.

He seemed to have discovered in himself a tenderness—unsuspected by no one more than he—for both of the cousins, but particularly for Sammy, who still viewed, as a springboard to literary renown, work that Deasey had long since concluded was only “a long, spiraling chute, greased with regular paychecks, to the Tartarus of pseudonymous hackdom.” He

One summer afternoon Mrs Oedipa Maas came home from a Tupper-ware party whose hostess had put perhaps too much kirsch in the fondue to find that she, Oedipa, had been named executor, or she supposed executrix, of the estate of one Pierce Inverarity, a California real estate mogul who had once lost two million dollars in his spare time but still had

covet

‘Did you take it?’ said James, looking at the children one after the other. Abruptly he seemed remote and stern, and desirable because of this; so Thomas turned away in shame.

Jack Isidore is a ‘crap artist’ who lives with his sister, Fay, and her husband, Charley Hume, in Seville, California in the late 1950s. He collects worthless objects and is prone to unusual beliefs such as the existence of telepathy, flying saucers and the idea that the world will end on 23 April 1959. However, the main narrative concerns the dete

Finally, Joel speaks. “How are your parents?” “Oh, well, they’re moving,” Fawn says. “You know. To a retirement community. It’s an adjustment. In lots of ways. Good and bad.” She keeps adding phrases, hoping they will add up to a reasonable conversation.