After the mention of Gaddis in the last post I wanted to offer this sentence in addition, from Carepenter’s Gothic. This is beautiful writing, the sort of sentence that one can read over and over…the simple act of reading it aloud makes life itself more beautiful…

From the terrace, where she came out minutes later, the sun still held the yellowing heights of the maple tree on the lower lawn’s descent to a lattice fence threatening collapse under a summer exuberance of wild grape already gone a sodden yellow, brown spotted, green veined full as hands in its leaves’ lower reaches toward the fruitless torment of a wild cherry tree, limbs like the scabrous barked trunk itself wrenched, twisted, dead where one of them sported wens the size of a man’s head, cysts the size of a fist, a graceless Laocoon of a tree whose leaves where it showed them were shot through with bursts neither yellow nor not, whose branches were already careers for bittersweet just paling yellow, for the Virginia creeper in a vermilion haste to be gone.

–Carpenters Gothic. ©William Gaddis, 1985. Viking Penguin Edition. Page 36.

And a Matisse,

Landscape at Collioure. Henri Matisse, 1905