I wish somebody had warned me how strange and quiet this book would be. Not that I have anything against the works that are strange and quiet. I like them quite a bit, especially (for example) Nabokov’s Speak, Memory. I also liked The New York Trilogy by Paul Auster just fine. I would have liked a heads-up, is all, on the strangeness and the quietness.
Maybe I should have known.
Maybe I just wasn’t paying attention to the metainfo, prior to picking up the book.
Maybe the prose style of the book has infected this review. That happens a lot with me, I’ve noticed. Maybe I should read the graphic novel version of ‘City of Glass,’ the first book in the trilogy. Maybe I will someday.