Fog And Quiet

Poul Anderson, The Stars Are Also Fire, 41.

We are overdue for some Pathetic Fallacy so here it is. Having just read about the final resting place of the two Dagnys, we return to Kenmuir and Aleka who have gone to consult the Rydberg, Matthias, at Guthrie House. Because of the gravity of the matter, he has invited them to stay overnight and now meets them for breakfast.

First, we read a recognizably Andersonian account of the weather conditions outside the building:

"Fog rolled in during the night. By sunrise it had cloaked Guthrie House in gray-white where the closest trees, two or three meters from the window, were shadows and everything else was formless. Air lay cold and damp and very quiet. You could just hear the hush of waves along the shore and perhaps a dripping from the eaves." (p. 504)

Fog, shadows, formlessness, cold, damp, quiet, hush of waves and dripping from eaves. The characters, enshrouded in mystery, do not really know what is happening or what to do. Thus, the external weather conditions exactly match their existential condition. And the quiet also matches Matthias' obvious preference for silence over breakfast. Then he takes them to a quiet room with a ticking grandfather clock, the room where mortal Anson Guthrie had died. The lodgemaster is about to disclose a portentous secret.