Titus Groan by Mervyn Peake Silence was there with a loud rhythm. The halls, towers, the rooms of Gormenghast were of another planet. We are all imprisoned by the dictionary. We choose out of the vast, paper-walled prison our convicts, the little black printed words, when in truth we need fresh sounds to utter, new enfranchised noises which would produce a new effect. But no, it is impossible.
Life is too fleet for onomatopoeia.
Dead words defy me. I can make no sound, dear ladies, that is apt. Yes, there are Peake Studies . Kemp Booksellers specializes in Peake stuff. Peake is also in the Linkoping SF and F Archive.