Sent down from Oxford
part-way through his
second year, Quennell
thought to accept the
Sitwells' invitation
to Amalfi. His father
had heard good reports
of the brothers' hard-
working lives.
The Sitwells loved Amalfi, and no doubt I should have enjoyed it myself had the winter skies occasionally cleared. But, alas, storm after storm pursued one another across the Gulf of Naples, blotting out the horizon and drenching the narrow ledge on which our hotel stood with incessant sheets of rain.
But I was given him when I was rather young, so he is also a link to that time. I find myself anxiously hoping now, that he ever did wonder, what was the weather like, off the narrow ledge?
Peter Quennell
The Marble Foot
An Autobiography, 1905-1938
Collins, 1976©
iii, vii Carl Mydans
haha! i love the title you gave the first pic. ;)
ReplyDeleteThe first picture, as can sometimes be the case here, is an excerpt of a larger canvas. I am genuinely interested in where the éclat may be concentrated, sometimes, in a tableau of diminished concentration. This is as true of the facial edits as any of the other pictures you may find at this page. I will consider what narrative can be elicited. The cheeky title was an irrepressible residue of an internal monologue in that labour. :)
ReplyDeleteI think I had the picture I wanted, right there. The élan is mellifluous, its character uncompromised and focused. Tribute had to be paid. I think it is all here.
Thank you for noticiing ~