7th May 2015
Over the last few months I’ve been dipping in and out of an anthology of writing by Truman Capote called A Capote Reader. Containing some of his short stories, novellas, travel sketches, reportage, portraits, and essays, it has left me in awe of such a formidable writing talent.
This paragraph, in particular, taken from The Grass Harp caught me. It’s the sort of writing that you want to read slowly and savour.
“Wind surprised, pealed the leaves, parted night clouds; showers of star-light were let loose; our candle, as though intimidated by the incandescence of the opening, star-stabbed sky, toppled, and we could see, unwrapped above us, a late wayaway wintery moon; it was like a slice of snow, near and far creatures called to it, hunched moon-eyed frogs, a claw-voiced wildcat.”