From reading the blurb was really excited to read this, it's described as 'a mind-bending novel for our disjointed times' The novel itself is both disjointed and connects and refers to itself repeatedly. It feels trapped inside the format of a book, like it should cover a whole room with the reader able to draw lines connecting the various threads and thoughts which are continuously picked up and dropped.
It's somewhat self obsessed and egotistical, both the the narrator and the book itself in a way. It feels like walking through someone's thoughts while they are asleep, seeing their dreams and the associations they spark. It's sometimes confusing and hard to follow, but I think that is the effect the writer was going for.
These two pictures were from when I received the book from a friend, after carrying it about for weeks it now has a lovely scrubbed white patina.
