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“… and she listened with her nose for the whiskey that was in him”

The reporter style narrative reminds me of Dracula. The Punjab lasso sounds so cool.

This is a fun book. Like a lot of “horror” books the house/ building is an important character.

I don’t understand how a lot of the men and authority don’t believe the supernatural witnesses are exclaiming about.

I thought Phantom was the one who’s obsessed but Raoul is not that different.

Comparable to what Covid times were like again. Except we had social media.

Chapter 9 triggers my memories to 5 years ago when the world faced the pandemic and quarantined. It also makes me reflect on my personal condition with agoraphobia. Isolation sucks.

This last chapter was all an assumption and the reader doesn’t even know if it’s what really happened. “Maybe” this or that, “must’ve” this or that.

And we really went back to chew more.

The story is told like a curlicue: reveals a little and goes back over and over again.

“… at least it would be something just because it would have happened, be remembered even if only from passing from one hand to another, one mind to another, and it would be at least a scratch…”

I often said “what?” Out loud. And I reread it like three times but I’m not hating it.

What have I got myself into

“Death was defiance. Death was an attempt to communicate; people feeling the impossibility of reaching the centre which, mystically, evaded them; closeness drew apart; rapture faded, one was alone. There was embrace in death.”

“Then there was the terror; the overwhelming incapacity, one’s parents giving into one’s hands this life to be lived to the end, to be walked serenely….”

Pleasure and pain play a vital role in our decision making hence our virtues. Bravery comes from facing pain for what one believes is right.

What is “good”?

This is all over the place, but seems pretty fun.

“Much rather would she have been one of those people like Richard who did things for themselves, whereas, …half the time she did things not simply, not for themselves; but to make people think this or that; perfect idiocy she knew… for no one was ever for a second taken in” (10).

I was wondering when he would come back!

What’s happening

“Words! Mere words! How terrible they were! How clear, and vivid, and cruel! One could not escape from them. And yet what subtle magic there was in them!”

Finally getting to this.

“In the wild struggle for existence, we want to have something that endures, and so we fill our minds with rubbish facts, in the silly hope of keeping our place.”

What would he thought of our phones!

Zeus needed an upgrade.

Adventure” was another one I read in college.
Did it hurt this much last time around?

“As she stood looking out over the land something, perhaps the thought of never ceasing life as it expresses itself in the flow of the seasons, fixed her mind on the passing years”

I don’t know how to describe it but the writing is very intricate and neurotic/psychological than expected