Sunday, 30 January 2011

Gormenghast is my spiritual home.

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Maybe why I love Bucharest. The other two Gormenghasts in my life were the House of Lords which was my first workplace and Dad's astonishingly dusty and unintelligible office into which he could somehow slither through to sit at his chair surrounded by the kind of things Opus Fluke would have kept in his had he had one. Pungent ancient rubbers for example (erasers for any American who reads this). A magnifying glass. A kaleidoscope.

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