My grandfather wrote, "It is a great privilege to live in a town which the dead have not deserted. Walk the streets of Cooperstown with me on a moonlit night, and I'll show you a village where the enchantment of death is a warm and friendly quality."
The coat of many colours stained out of uplifted genres that automates a novel like� Angelmaker seems to mask, in Harkaway's case, some Horror of True Sight.
