Boy Pleydell's Moment Of Realization

Concentrated doses of Poul Anderson's prose have sensitized me to recognizable tricks of the trade in other authors' works, one being descriptions of natural scenery that appeal to three or more of the senses, another being dramatic ways to tell us that a character has suddenly realized something important.

Boy Pleydell and Jonathan Mansel, in the Pyrenees, are trying to trace the movements of a murderer:

"There was another silence. Jonah had his eyes shut and a hand to his head. And I stared up at the cliffs which were looking down on Echelle. The sun was...
"And there, as I looked upon them, the contact was made.
"I must, I think, have cried out, but I cannot be sure. But Jonah was shaking me and crying, 'What do you know?'"
-Dornford Yates, The House That Berry Built (London, 1945), CHAPTER XVI, p. 249.

Your Blogger's Observations
(i) Of course, Boy enlightens Jonah immediately whereas Anderson's characters keep us waiting.

(ii) Nevertheless, an Anderson fan, at least one who reads this blog, should immediately feel at home when Boy makes "contact" and Jonah urgently shakes him.

(iii) I turn to other reading only to find something relevant blog-wise. The Andersonian perspective permeates other reading just as meditation is supposed to permeate daily life.

(iv) Am I making too much of this? No doubt.