This book is so alive I think it might crawl up the windowsill and jump out the window, land in a red convertable and then drive it off the pier. I cant say how powerful the imagery is. Its a rocket flare that makes everything bright and intensely surreal. See how I'm typing!
I suggest reading it just for the sheer bright brilliance of writing so intense it reminds me of Chuck Palahniuk, only much stronger. Almost always after reading I was ... not tired, not wired, somewhere in the middle, but higher... I had to take a few big deep breaths and come slowly down. The prose is both stubbornly short and symbolistic firewoks ... I liken it to a concrete wrecking ball obliterating a impressionist crystal vase. I can see and hear every shattering second very clearly.
Maybe I shouldnt write these reviews right when I put the book down? What a ride!
~D
PS. Personally the book inspired me to a little impulsiveness more than once. Example: One late work-night, remembering a scene in the book, I went out and surprised my girlfriend with champagne and strawberries (she's allergic to clams) and we stayed up, picnicing on the bed, shooting the breeze like good friends way way past our bed time.... thanks for the idea Mr. Nova, but more importatnly thanks for a book so thousand-watt strong that I blink, cringe and look in all kinds of other directions.
PPS. Two quotes I love:
"A good meal is a spit in the face of death."
"I want to tell him that grief is a flower that only blooms in the best gardens."