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Quote by The Harvard Lampoon

“You should have seen the costumes for the last few prom themes: Pimps and their srteet ho's; CEOs and their office ho's; GI Joes and their combat ho's; Gardeners and their garden hose;Firemen and their fire hose... If you ask me, a 'masquerade' theme isn't flattering for anyones features, nor does it define the apppropriate gender roles very clearly.”

Quote by The Harvard Lampoon

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The Harvard Lampoon

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“She finds herself, by some miraculous feat, no longer standing in the old nursery but returned to the clearing in the woods. It is the 'green cathedral', the place she first kissed Jack all those weeks ago. The place where they laid out the stunned sparrowhawk, then watched it spring miraculously back to life. All around, the smooth, grey trunks of ancient beech trees rise up from the walls of the room to tower over her, spreading their branches across the ceiling in a fan of tangled branches and leaves, paint and gold leaf cleverly combined to create the shimmering effect of a leafy canopy at its most dense and opulent. And yet it is not the clearing, not in any real or grounded sense, because instead of leaves, the trees taper up to a canopy of extraordinary feathers shimmering and spreading out like a peacock's tail across the ceiling, a hundred green, gold and sapphire eyes gazing down upon her. Jack's startling embellishments twist an otherwise literal interpretation of their woodland glade into a fantastical, dreamlike version of itself. Their green cathedral, more spectacular and beautiful than she could have ever imagined. She moves closer to one of the trees and stretches out a hand, feeling instead of rough bark the smooth, cool surface of a wall. She can't help but smile. The trompe-l'oeil effect is dazzling and disorienting in equal measure. Even the window shutters and cornicing have been painted to maintain the illusion of the trees, while high above her head the glass dome set into the roof spills light as if it were the sun itself, pouring through the canopy of eyes. The only other light falls from the glass windowpanes above the window seat, still flanked by the old green velvet curtains, which somehow appear to blend seamlessly with the painted scene. The whole effect is eerie and unsettling. Lillian feels unbalanced, no longer sure what is real and what is not. It is like that book she read to Albie once- the one where the boy walks through the wardrobe into another world. That's what it feels like, she realizes: as if she has stepped into another realm, a place both fantastical and otherworldly. It's not just the peacock-feather eyes that are staring at her. Her gaze finds other details: a shy muntjac deer peering out from the undergrowth, a squirrel, sitting high up in a tree holding a green nut between its paws, small birds flitting here and there. The tiniest details have been captured by Jack's brush: a silver spider's web, a creeping ladybird, a puffy white toadstool. The only thing missing is the sound of the leaf canopy rustling and the soft scuttle of insects moving across the forest floor.”

GreenNatures BeautyLillian And JackOptical IllusionDetailedPainting A CanvasCathedral Of NatureTrompe L Oeil
Book:The Peacock Summer
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“It's a little early to be falling asleep," says a voice, soft and low, at her side. Startled, she spins to face the man who seems to have materialized from nowhere. "By all accounts," he adds, "there are still hours of this to get through." She doesn't recognize him. In the near-darkness his face is smooth like sculpted marble and his eyes shine almost black; his expression is hard to read- playful, perhaps- but it's his choice of words that intrigues her the most.”

Lillian And JackFirst Met
Book:The Peacock Summer
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“Fincher," he says. "Jack Fincher. I'm an artist," he adds, a hint of apology in his voice. "An artist?" Lillian has not expected this reply. "Are you any good?" The man gives a wry smile. "If I say "yes", you will think me horribly conceited. And if I say "no", you'll probably vanish at the earliest possible opportunity and find someone far more interesting to talk to." "You wouldn't want me to vanish?" she asks, once more surprised at her daring. "No," he says, holding her gaze. "I wouldn't want you to vanish.”

FlirtingLillian And Jack
Book:The Peacock Summer
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