El medio ambiente

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  • Publicado : 6 de septiembre de 2012
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This is for Joe Hill King, who shines on.
— — — — — — —
My editor on this book, as on the previous two,
was Mr. William G. Thompson,
a man of wit and good sense. His contribution
to this book has been large, and for it, my thanks
S.K.
Some of the most beautiful
resort hotels in the world
are located in Colorado, but
the hotel in these pages
is based on none of them.
The Overlook andthe people
associated with it exist
wholly within
the author's
imagination.
It was in this apartment, also, that there stood ... a gigantic clock of
ebony. Its pendulum swung to and fro with a dull, heavy, monotonous clang; and
when ... the hour was to be stricken, there came from the brazen lungs of the
clock a sound which was clear and loud and deep and exceedingly musical, but of
sopeculiar a note and emphasis that, at each lapse of an hour, the musicians of
the orchestra were constrained to pause ... to hearken to the sound; and thus
the waltzers perforce ceased their evolutions; and there was a brief disconcert
of the whole gay company; and; while the chimes of the clock yet rang, it was
observed that the giddiest grew pale, and the more aged and sedate passed theirhands over their brows as if in confused reverie or meditation. But when the
echoes had fully ceased, a light laughter at once pervaded the assembly ...
and [they] smiled as if at their own nervousness ... and made whispering vows,
each to the other, that the next chiming of the clock should produce in them no
similar emotion; and then, after the lapse of sixty minutes ... there came yet
anotherchiming of the clock, and then were the same disconcert and
tremulousness and meditation as before.
But in spite of these things, it was a gay and magnificent revel ...
-E. A. POE
"THE MASQUE OF THE RED DEATH"
The sleep of reason breeds monsters.
GOYA
It'll shine when it shines
FOLK SAYING
P A R T O N E
— — — — — — — — — — — — — —
PREFATORY MATTERS
— — — — — — — — — — — — — —
<<1 >>
JOB INTERVIEW
Jack Torrance thought: Officious little prick.
Ullman stood five-five, and when he moved, it was with the prissy speed that
seems to be the exclusive domain of all small plump men. The part in his hair
was exact, and his dark suit was sober but comforting. I am a man you can bring
your problems to, that suit said to the paying customer. To the hired help it
spokemore curtly: This had better be good, you. There was a red carnation in
the lapel, perhaps so that no one on the street would mistake Stuart Ullman for
the local undertaker.
As he listened to Ullman speak, Jack admitted to himself that he probably
could not have liked any man on that side of the desk — under the circumstances.
Ullman had asked a question he hadn't caught. That was bad; Ullmanwas the
type of man who would file such lapses away in a mental Rolodex for later
consideration.
"I'm sorry?"
"I asked if your wife fully understood what you would be taking on here. And
there's your son, of course." He glanced down at the application in front of
him. "Daniel. Your wife isn't a bit intimidated by the idea?"
"Wendy is an extraordinary woman."
"And your son is alsoextraordinary?"
Jack smiled, a big wide PR smile. "We like to think so, I suppose. He's quite
self-reliant for a five-year-old."
No returning smile from Ullman. He slipped Jack's application back into the
file. The file went into a drawer. The desk top was now completely bare except
for a blotter, a telephone, a Tensor lamp, and an in/out basket. Both sides of
the in/out were empty, too.
Ullmanstood up and went to the file cabinet in the corner. "Step around the
desk, if you will, Mr. Torrance. We'll look at the floor plans."
He brought back five large sheets and set them down on the glossy walnut plain
of the desk. Jack stood by his shoulder, very much aware of the scent of
Ullman's cologne. All my men wear English Leather or they wear nothing at all
came into his mind for no reason...
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