So, in reading Scott Lynch’s The Lies of Locke Lamora, which I am devouring and loving by the way, I’ve noticed he has a real knack for lyricism.  Example. There are these wonderful dinner scenes among the Gentlemen Bastards where they go through a sort of liturgy at the start of the meal.  They pour a glass of wine for their god and then they pour a glass of wine for someone who isn’t there.  May be that they’ve died or maybe they’re simply gone.  But when they do, they all raise their glasses up and say,

A glass poured to air for an absent friend.”

I thought that was beautiful.  It rolls right off the tongue and has a rythm and meter (may even be iambic pentameter – A glass/poured to/air for/an ab-/-sent friend?) to it that makes it authentic, believable, and memorable. Well done, Mr. Lynch.  I appreciate these kinds of details.


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