Monday, 24 October 2022

Dusk, Sunset And Sea

The Night Face, XI.

Raven closes the door of his cabin, emerges from the spaceship and converses with his companion. However, between the departure from the cabin and the conversation with the companion, we read the following paragraph:

"Emerging from the spaceship, Raven saw that dusk was upon the land. The sky was deeply blue-black, early stars in the east, a last sunset cloud above the western mountains like a streak of clotting blood. He thought he could hear the sea bellow beyond the dike." (p. 644)

Blue-black sky, blood-red cloud, bellowing sea: only two senses this time but it is enough. We have become used to this level of descriptive detail in Poul Anderson's works and I have also become reluctant to read any other sf writer's account of another planet in case it does not measure up.

I might shortly read A. Bertram Chandler's account of John Grimes' meeting with Dominic Flandry.

3 comments:

Sean M. Brooks said...

Kaor, Paul!

Poul Anderson was poetic in his writing of SF--even when he wrote in prose!

Ad astra! Sean

S.M. Stirling said...

He was a master of vividness. If I've done anything along those lines, I owe it to him more than anyone else.

Sean M. Brooks said...

Kaor, Mr. Stirling!

And many, many times you have! Which is why I buy your books.

Ad astra! Sean