By Philip K. Dick
Confessions of a Crap Artist is certainly one of Philip okay. Dick's most eldritch and such a lot comprehensive novels. Jack Isidore is a crap artist -- a collector of crackpot principles (among different issues, he believes that the earth is hallow and that sun has weight) and valueless gadgets, a guy so grossly unequipped for actual existence that his sister and brother-in-law consider forced to rescue him from it. yet noticeable via Jack's murderously blameless gaze, Charlie and Juddy Hume end up to be simply as sealed off from fact, in thrall to obsessions which are just a little extra applicable than Jack's, yet greatly uglier.
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Additional info for Confessions of a Crap Artist
No, Mama, I wish to see you now,' Emmeline said firmly. 'I know very well that you've been weeping. ' A key grated in the lock and the door was opened. As Emmeline entered the study, her mother was already walking away from her. She was a stout, handsome woman with hair the same colour as her daughter's. Her velvet and satin dress, edged with lace, shimmered purple as she crossed the room, the long train trailing behind her. Only when she reached the overstuffed leather armchair by the roaring fire did she turn and face Emmeline.
Must rectify that some time. ' The question had come unexpectedly, almost as a natural extension of the Doctor's ramblings. However, if he was hoping to catch Seers off guard he was to be disappointed. ' The Doctor swung round. 'Oh, come now, Mr Seers, you must do. ' 'I have many employees,' Seers repeated stubbornly. 'I cannot be expected to remember -' 'He cut his hand. Badly. A few weeks ago. Blood all over the place. You dismissed him. ' The Doctor crossed the room and sat down again. He leaned forward, gazing earnestly into Nathaniel Seers's grey, almost silvery, eyes.
When he spoke, the only part of him that moved was his mouth. 'You are not only abusive, sir, you are presumptuous,' he said quietly. 'Terrible habit of mine. 'Then abruptly becoming serious once more, he said,'Tom Donahue was seen running from here last night. He was terrified out of his wits. He claimed that he'd seen something awful at the factory, something that had caused him to flee. ' Seers gazed back at the Doctor, his features cast in stone. ' 'And then this morning his body was found in the Thames.