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.