Geology and literature
An occasional series devoted to unexpected outcrops of geospeak in the literary canon.
‘After breakfast we all flocked to the north passage, where there were hundreds of stones in glass-fronted cupboards… Valuable, unique, they were a family legend. … We children revered them. Davey looked at them carefully, taking some over to the window and peering into them. Finally, he heaved a great sigh and said: ‘What a beautiful collection. I suppose you know they’re all diseased? …and too far gone for treatment. In a year or two they’ll be dead – you might as well throw the whole lot away.’ Uncle Matthew was delighted.’
- The Pursuit of Love, by Nancy Mitford (1945). Spotted by Ted Nield. Contributions welcome. Email [email protected]