palimpsest texts
John Baker Shooting in the Dark The Orion Publishing Group 2001 p184
'Betty thought good sex, good home-cooking, hard work and the smells of the earth would work miracles on Sam Turner. And she was right in a way. He got fit and tanned and lean living with her. Spent every penny he had on booze, and when he'd emptied his pockets he'd reach for Betty's purse. Didn't matter where she hid it. Found it once buried under the compost heap. A man gets to know a woman's ways'.
Stephen Booth Black Dog Harper Collins 2001 p274
'Ah, grab a spare wheelbarrow then', said Sam. 'Unless you know anything about making compost'.
'All you do is pile it up and it rots down again,' said Cooper, determined to stay on friendly terms. 'Is that right?'
'Oh no, not at all.'
'Not at all', echoed Wilford.’ There's an art to compost. It needs nurturing, like a child.'
Julia Glass Three Junes Anchor Books 2003 p175
'Mal startled me when he laughed. 'Imagine being in the midst of a terrible love spat when you round a corner and find yourself stuck in this livestock jam. You've been needling and needling away at your lover, and now he's just confessed he's having a passionate affair and is planning to leave you. You're calling him every name in the book, a fucking whore, a faithless traitor, an asswipe, a cunt, you always knew his heart was nothing but compost ... but physically, you have to move by agonizing inches, with nowhere to go, forward or back, while these poor dim-witted creatures make their sad little noises...'
Martha Grimes The Horse You Came In On Ballantine Books 1993 p347
"Bluhhh", said Trueblood, simulating sickness. "God but I loathe men who like to garden. They're always wandering around in their oilskins and thick shoes going on about compost and spouting the latin names of flowers." "I can think of sillier pastimes," said Jury, with a level look at Trueblood who raised a sculpted eyebrow'.
Jonathan Kellerman Self-Defense Warner Books 1994 p270
'I nodded. His eyes widened and he grinned. “Go ahead, patronize me, pricklet. I can chew up anything you serve me, digest it for my own benefit, and shit it back at you as high-density compost timbales." He licked his lips and tried to spit. Nothing came out of his mouth'.
Shane Maloney Stiff The Text Publishing Company 1994 p166
'Unbelievable. Run off the road, car wrecked, nearly drowned, swept away in a flood, and what to do? I pass out like a baby, face down in a pile of compost for more than three hours. From somewhere uphill came the fading sound of a car engine. The dog licked my hand and stuck its muzzle into my crotch. It wasn't much. but I was grateful for the thought'.
Chuck Palahniuk Fight Club Henry Holt & Company 1996 p134
'When I come home, one space monkey is reading to the assembled space monkeys who sit covering the whole first floor. "You are not a beautiful and unique snowflake. You are the same decaying organic matter as everyone else, and we are all part of the same compost pile."
Ian Rankin writing as Jack Harvey Bleeding Hearts Orion Books 1994 p311.
'Someone cleared his throat. Then I heard water pouring on the ground. He'd come outside to urinate. Yes, I'd seen a compost heap over where he was standing; no doubt he was peeing on that. I could hear the blood rushing in my ears, my heart thumping. Then the man turned and retraced his steps. I heard a cabin door close, though I hadn't heard it open'.
Andrew Taylor The Mortal Sickness Hodder & Stoughton 1995 p1, opening paragraph
'Jill knew at once that the woman was dead. The knowledge struck her like a revelation, absolute and unassailable. Her certainty had something to do with the woman’s grotesquely abandoned pose and something to do with the smell in the little room, which reminded her not unpleasantly of compost and incense'.
I am indebted to these authors, whose inclusion of the compost image in their novels fed my imagination. Their books were a pleasure to read and I believe that visitors to this site would also enjoy reading their books.
'Betty thought good sex, good home-cooking, hard work and the smells of the earth would work miracles on Sam Turner. And she was right in a way. He got fit and tanned and lean living with her. Spent every penny he had on booze, and when he'd emptied his pockets he'd reach for Betty's purse. Didn't matter where she hid it. Found it once buried under the compost heap. A man gets to know a woman's ways'.
Stephen Booth Black Dog Harper Collins 2001 p274
'Ah, grab a spare wheelbarrow then', said Sam. 'Unless you know anything about making compost'.
'All you do is pile it up and it rots down again,' said Cooper, determined to stay on friendly terms. 'Is that right?'
'Oh no, not at all.'
'Not at all', echoed Wilford.’ There's an art to compost. It needs nurturing, like a child.'
Julia Glass Three Junes Anchor Books 2003 p175
'Mal startled me when he laughed. 'Imagine being in the midst of a terrible love spat when you round a corner and find yourself stuck in this livestock jam. You've been needling and needling away at your lover, and now he's just confessed he's having a passionate affair and is planning to leave you. You're calling him every name in the book, a fucking whore, a faithless traitor, an asswipe, a cunt, you always knew his heart was nothing but compost ... but physically, you have to move by agonizing inches, with nowhere to go, forward or back, while these poor dim-witted creatures make their sad little noises...'
Martha Grimes The Horse You Came In On Ballantine Books 1993 p347
"Bluhhh", said Trueblood, simulating sickness. "God but I loathe men who like to garden. They're always wandering around in their oilskins and thick shoes going on about compost and spouting the latin names of flowers." "I can think of sillier pastimes," said Jury, with a level look at Trueblood who raised a sculpted eyebrow'.
Jonathan Kellerman Self-Defense Warner Books 1994 p270
'I nodded. His eyes widened and he grinned. “Go ahead, patronize me, pricklet. I can chew up anything you serve me, digest it for my own benefit, and shit it back at you as high-density compost timbales." He licked his lips and tried to spit. Nothing came out of his mouth'.
Shane Maloney Stiff The Text Publishing Company 1994 p166
'Unbelievable. Run off the road, car wrecked, nearly drowned, swept away in a flood, and what to do? I pass out like a baby, face down in a pile of compost for more than three hours. From somewhere uphill came the fading sound of a car engine. The dog licked my hand and stuck its muzzle into my crotch. It wasn't much. but I was grateful for the thought'.
Chuck Palahniuk Fight Club Henry Holt & Company 1996 p134
'When I come home, one space monkey is reading to the assembled space monkeys who sit covering the whole first floor. "You are not a beautiful and unique snowflake. You are the same decaying organic matter as everyone else, and we are all part of the same compost pile."
Ian Rankin writing as Jack Harvey Bleeding Hearts Orion Books 1994 p311.
'Someone cleared his throat. Then I heard water pouring on the ground. He'd come outside to urinate. Yes, I'd seen a compost heap over where he was standing; no doubt he was peeing on that. I could hear the blood rushing in my ears, my heart thumping. Then the man turned and retraced his steps. I heard a cabin door close, though I hadn't heard it open'.
Andrew Taylor The Mortal Sickness Hodder & Stoughton 1995 p1, opening paragraph
'Jill knew at once that the woman was dead. The knowledge struck her like a revelation, absolute and unassailable. Her certainty had something to do with the woman’s grotesquely abandoned pose and something to do with the smell in the little room, which reminded her not unpleasantly of compost and incense'.
I am indebted to these authors, whose inclusion of the compost image in their novels fed my imagination. Their books were a pleasure to read and I believe that visitors to this site would also enjoy reading their books.
