As far as thick tombs go, this one is among the thickest, with 1286 possible paper cuts and wrist strain nearly guaranteed! When I started this volume, which contains 5 novels and dozens of short stories, all printed in small type, I didn't need reading glasses, but now I do. The book itself, although I didn't weigh it, is heavier than it looks (and it looks heavy, make no mistake). I nearly concussed myself several times during the thirteen months it took me to read this anthology, simply because I temporarily stored it on a high perch and it seemed to leap at me of its own accord. Perhaps it would be wise of the book seller to include a helmet and safety glasses, to avoid any possible liability claims. Over the course of the time it took me to tackle this epistle of literary largess, the binding likewise failed to escape injury, and I predict at some point it will part ways with this treatise of learned disquisition, giving the stout narratives no protective exoskeleton in which to look imposing in. The horrifying possibility that there is a volume 2 out there sends shivers along my spine, and phantom pains in my wrists.