"Autun, still as a churchyard. Tile roofs, dark with moss. The amphitheatre. The great, central square: the Champ de Mars. Now, in the blue of autumn, it reappears, this old town, provincial autumn that touches the bone. The summer has ended. The garden withers. The mornings become chill. I am thirty, I am thirty-four - the years turn dry as leaves."
- A Sport and A Pastime, James Salter
(Merci a Lauren C.)
So glad Lauren pointed you to one of my favorite writers (and novels) of all time.
Posted by: Callie Miller | October 12, 2010 at 10:59 AM
Mark,
I wrote a two-part post on this lovely novel a couple years back. You might enjoy it, especially as it focuses on technique:
http://wisdomofthewest.blogspot.com/search/label/A%20Sport%20and%20a%20Pastime
Best,
Jim H.
Posted by: Jim H. | November 02, 2010 at 01:45 PM