Tuesday, March 28, 2006

William Gibson gets a lot of credit for his ideas, but not so much for his writing. But he can produce a sentence that is perfect in its evocation of scene, background, and emotional tenor. The very first Gibson sentence I ever read was one of these: "The sky above the port was the color of television, tuned to a dead channel."

I just finished his latest, Pattern Recognition, which you wouldn't call science fiction if Gibson weren't already a "science fiction writer", I found this:

"And then she hears the sound of a helicopter, from somewhere behind her and, turning, sees the long white beam of light sweeping the dead ground as it comes, like a lighthouse gone mad from loneliness, and searching that barren ground as foolishly, as randomly, as any grieving heart ever has."


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