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The first few set up the lore in an engaging way, the next couple are flabbily digressive, the project is saved thereafter by a pair of wild fantasies (one narrated by a worm), before an “academic” steps up to the podium and tries to straighten out the continuity like a desperate Marvel producer. For the journey not to grow tiresome the Oulipians are gonna have to let their freak fantasies fly free.

63 and not 63

I think this may be the start of a beautiful relationship, Mr. McPhee.

Due to persistent family illness it’s been months since I’ve finished a book. Enter this little guy.

So far, up there with Fathers and Crows. Still early, I know.

Ray Q, eat your heart out!

I suppose I’ve put this off for long enough…

Was I supposed to find the first chapter funny? It produced some rare-for-reading irl chuckles. The judge’s speech, the tent collapsing. Since then though it’s been pitch black and bloody.

Nothing beats a big book with brief chapters.

“It occurs to him, while he is still prostrate, that the girl, though beautiful, is rather skinny. He raises his head and instantly she has a behind that rivals the hills of ‘Alij, the dunes of al- Dhana’, and the sands of Yabrin and the Banu Sa’d. Awed by the omnipotence of the Kind and Knowing God, he says, “Thou who givest rays to the shining sun, Thou who fulfillest the desires of everyone…

Finally nearing the 20th century. I’m finding it therapeutic to read a book that tackles such a gargantuan swathe of time. It makes the endless novel emergencies of our moment feel a bit silly, or at least it puts their impermanence into perspective, thereby shaving a substantial hunk of anxious plaque off the ol’ gray matter. Read history, folks.