5 THE ANALYSIS
5.1 The Ghost
A nameless British writer who makes his living writing other people’s autobiographies. He is hired by a major US publishing firm to work up the
memoirs of a former British prime minister, Adam Lang. It can be seen quoted below:
Maddox and Kroll looked at one another and I knew then that I had thejob. As Rick said afterward, the trick is always
to put yourself in their position. “It’s like interviewing a new cleaner. Do you want someone who can give you the history of
cleaning and the theory of cleaning, or do you want someone who’ll just get down and clean your fucking house? They
chose you because they think you’ll clean their fucking house.”
“We’ll go with you,” said Maddox. He stood and reached over and shook my hand. “Subject to reaching a satisfactory
agreement with Rick here, of course.” Kroll added, “You’ll also have to sign a nondisclosure agreement.”
“No problem,” I said, also getting to my feet. That didn’t bother me. Confidentiality clauses are standard procedure in
the ghosting world. “I couldn’t be happier.” Robert Harris, The Ghost Writer, 2007, p. 15
The Ghost is a brave person; the walking self. He has an English face with the rounding face, the titled nose, the small mouth. He is average, shape body;
black to blonde hair, blue eyes, and has serious expression. He is an intelligent man, competent, talented but also friendly, curios and
brave. He always want to search everything and workaholic. It can be seen quoted below:
And, now I came to think of it, I did vaguely remember seeing something. But I had been working fifteen hours a day for a
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month to finish my new book, the autobiography of a footballer, and the world beyond my study had become a
blur. Robert Harris, The Ghost Writer, 2007, p. 7
He is about thirtiest years old. He lives alone, but sometimes his partner comes to see him and stay.
It can be seen quoted below:
Kate had already let herself in and was watching the news. Kate: I had forgotten she was coming over for the evening.
She was my—? I never knew what to call her. To say she was my girlfriend was absurd; no one the wrong side of thirty has
a girlfriend . Partner wasn’t right either, as we didn’t live under the same roof. Lover? How could one keep a straight
face? Mistress? Do me a favor. Fiancée? Certainly not. I suppose I ought to have realized it was ominous that forty
thousand years of human language had failed to produce a word for our relationship.
Robert Harris, The Ghost Writer, 2007, p. 10 He is thinker, silent, and mature. He is a man full with consideration . But
sometimes he is egoist. It can be seen quoted below:
She got up then and went into the bedroom to collect the bag she always brought on the nights she planned to stay. I heard
her filling it noisily with lipstick, toothbrush, perfume spray. I knew if I went in I could retrieve the situation. She was
probably expecting it; we’d had worse rows. I’d have been obliged to concede that she was right, acknowledge my
unsuitability for the task, affirm her moral and intellectual superiority in this as in all things. It needn’t even have been a
verbal confession; a meaningful hug would probably have been enough to get me a suspended sentence. But the truth
was, at that moment, given a choice between an evening of her smug left-wing moralizing and the prospect of working with a
so-called war criminal, I preferred the war criminal. So I simply carried on staring at the television.
Robert Harris, The Ghost Writer, 2007, p. 11
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The ghost has so many ideas to solve any kind of problems and always ready to take serious risks even he knows that it will become serious threat for his
writing carrier. It can be seen quoted below:
“Great. They gave me the Gulfstream Four—you know, the transatlantic one, with the beds and the shower. Hi, Amelia.
Hi, Jeff.” He noticed me. “Hello,” he said. “Who are you?” “I’m your ghost,” I said.
I regretted it the instant I said it. I’d conceived it as a witty, self-deprecatory, break-the-ice kind of a line. I’d even
practiced my delivery in the mirror before I left London. But somehow out there, in that deserted airport, amid the
grayness and the quietness, it hit precisely the wrong note. He flinched.
“Right,” he said doubtfully, and although he shook my hand, he also drew his head back slightly, as if to inspect me from a
safer distance. Christ, I thought, he thinks I’m a lunatic. “Don’t worry,” Ruth told him. “He isn’t always such a jerk.”
Robert Harris, The Ghost Writer, 2007, p. 33
The Ghost is a sociable personal and he can be a jerk in the same time. He often to saying jokes although it is not funny at all, without thinking with whom
he is talking and its impact. It can be seen quoted below:
I finished my sandwich and went back upstairs, still clutching my silent phone. I had had an idea,and my newborn
confidence gave me the courage to act on it. I went into the study and closed the door. I plugged Amelia’s flash drive into
my laptop, then I attached a cable from my computer to the cell phone and dialed up the internet. How much easier my
life would be, I reasoned—how much quicker the job would be done—if I could work on the book in my hotel room each
night. I told myself I was doing no harm. The risks were minimal. The machine rarely left my side. If necessary, it was
small enough to fit under my pillow while I slept. The moment
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I was online, I addressed an email to myself, attached the manuscript file, and pressed Send.
Robert Harris, The Ghost Writer, 2007, p. 33
5.2 Adam Lang
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