The Savage Detectives: A Novel

He peeled off harmoniums here, slapped others up there, making the block letters. In Mrs. Canby’s tale, the first intimation given that Rumfoord is around the caves from time to time is given in a scene very close to the end—a scene wherein Unk finds the tracks of a big dog in the dust.

After a few minutes of conversation in which I established most easily my moral superiority over this degenerate, I found myself pondering once more the crises of our times.

Poetry! The endemic illness of young malcontents, desperately embracing beauty, hog-tied to the tempting rhymes of a loaned-out language, tossed about between Creole and French like those rowboats over there on the sea I can hear but not see crashing from my shack.