A T. C. Boyle Line or Two

I’ve been reading T. C. Boyle’s The Road to Wellville and am taken by surprise again and again by descriptions and phrases and even single words that make me pause–in appreciation and despair, the former at his power of language and the latter at the spareness of my own prose. “A whiplash of a boy” (291), he says, and I can sense the shape, the nature, and the action of the boy.  That phrase is five words out of a book 476 pages long. Here’s one more, not exactly a warm description: “a miasma of earthy and human stinks enveloping them like a shroud in their fetid little pocket of the night” (376).It’s a wild ride.



About rmkinder

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