Tag Archives: William Gay

Whew.  Should’ve been framing but I think I would have locked the shop doors once I got into the last 25 pages. Somehow, the ending came full force and fast.  Almost a little too fast, as if the whole summer’s … Continue reading → Continue reading →

There were several threads in this narrative and little by little they are each knotted off.  Here’s just a sample of where Albright’s debt to Woodall is being paid off, his guilt assuaged by his painting Woodall’s widow’s house: She … Continue reading → Continue reading →

With fifty pages to go (and believe me, I wish there were more!) I can’t help but consider the back cover blurb and feel a bit confused: Only Fleming, E.F.’s grandson, is pleased with the old man’s homecoming, but Fleming’s … Continue reading → Continue reading →

There have been some beautiful phrases here, the dialect and tone so well suited to each particular character: I’ve drunk good whiskey and I’ve drunk bad, the old man told Fleming.  I’ve drunk whiskey so good you could smell the … Continue reading → Continue reading →

I like this: In these early days with the old man it seemed to Fleming that he was already changing, though he had never known his grandfather before and could not have said what he was changing from: from the … Continue reading → Continue reading →

Here’s supposedly the meaning: There was something oddly restful about the fireflies.  He couldn’t put his finger on it but he drew comfort from it anyway.  The way they’d seemed not separate entities but a single being, a moving river … Continue reading → Continue reading →

At this point, the end of Book 2, I am beginning to see a story of seeking, of looking for what man thinks will fill his needs. The old man, E. F. Bloodworth, is looking for a peaceful death.  Brady … Continue reading → Continue reading →

Another that, unless you read this novel, you’ll miss and I don’t want that: Fleming cranked down the window and the warm day rolled in, the smell of the fields, the distant woods. (pg. 112) Continue reading →

(Note: Faster reading and heavier postings are not related to Judith Martin’s unkind comments on my reviews, but rather because the novel is really good) There are many similarities between Gay and McCarthy in writing style, but there are some … Continue reading → Continue reading →

Gay is quite skillful in setting up his story and giving us plenty of sideplots that are self-standing and yet nicely interwoven by the characters.  For example, Brady Bloodworth, Fleming’s uncle and Boyd’s brother, supposedly claims certain powers of foresight … Continue reading → Continue reading →

I’ve been reading William Gay’s novel Provinces of Night and as is my habit lately, I’ve been reading not only for story, themes, imagery, language, etc., but I found myself following the trails of the characters as I would in … Continue reading → Continue reading →

Just had to share this one: He went on.  When he reached the crossroads the moon was well up and the intersecting roads lay dusted with silver until they faded into the velvet trees.  (p. 73) Gay gives us texture … Continue reading → Continue reading →

I know I’ve been slow with this novel, but reading Gay is often like reading McCarthy, or poetry: They laid aside their tools when all the sun there was was a fierce chromatic rose flaring behind the thunderhead and by … Continue reading → Continue reading →

Finally got back into reading after a busy couple of weeks and while I do love Gay’s story and writing style, I’m wondering if this is just a tad overdone: He fell silent, watching her.  He didn’t want to tell … Continue reading → Continue reading →

Okay, so size and weight of the book selection had something to do with it since it’s a take-along on a brief trip, but I’ve been wanting to read a novel by William Gay since I read one of his … Continue reading → Continue reading →