Word: ghostly
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Dates: during 1980-1989
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...built by Dyer (of whom he has never heard). The superintendent plunges into an intuitive pursuit in which he begins to identify with the killer. His prime suspect, often glimpsed around the churches, is the spectral figure of a derelict with a knack for drawing. Is it the ghost of Dyer? As Hawksmoor closes in, his overstrained mind and the novel's parallel narratives dissolve into a mystical blur without quite settling the question...
...moment, though, Will Hearst's flip line to his grandfather's ghost about not knowing what he is doing draws some uneasy smiles in the newsroom. Seven months after hiring a new editor for the paper, Hearst fired him two weeks ago and named himself to the post. Image, the four-month-old Sunday magazine, is so far ill focused. And the Examiner, perpetual afternoon also- ran to the morning Chronicle (circ. 554,000, vs. 150,000) has failed to gain new readers...
...powdered and primping heir to a 600-year-old title, hurtles around the dining room of his country estate, ablaze with rage and grief. He does not mind that his giddy young wife lies dead on the floor, accidentally slain by him as she prankishly impersonated a ghost. What really inflames him is that the breakfast toast has gone cold. In a ranting fury he rings for a servant and, almost as an afterthought, gulls the hapless lackey into believing himself responsible for the killing. Then, confident of his escape and frugal to the last, Lord Are points...
...Eddie's truck is a masterpiece of mud and birdcrap, like a Jackson Pollack custom-designed Chevy. May's motel room is a working model for entropy, strewn with dirty underwear and rumpled blouses. And Eddie's adolescent home boasts a velvet painting of John F. Kennedy, while the ghost-daughter of May's own past bounces behind her on a motel bed, and hugs her, crying, in the foreground of a rusted swingset...
...Museum, scorning such conventions, has turned its rotunda into a boat show. It is full of small craft of every kind, antic parodies and phantoms of seaside fun, not one of which will float. There is a dory made of concrete and a small runabout, or rather the Platonic ghost of one, made of glass reinforced with wire mesh; a sailing dinghy made of sheet copper; and a trio of bright blue, toylike sailing boats, one of them toppled as by a puff in the bathtub. There are also wooden fences, sheds and nondescript little structures of a vaguely maritime...