Miguel

Farmer wants his plot back.

More than this is a fine novel.

Definitely shallow. Definitely pedantic.
(And loads of fun.)

Cute.

More fun than it had any business being.

A glorious quasi new wave fever dream of unexpected depth.

I love every single character Colson writes.

Racial commentary made masterfully, satirically, and never loosening the tongue from the proverbial cheek.

A blast.

Masterfully crafted, a world both enchanting and tragically beautiful.

Our poor Romeo.

Jeanette is a wondrously talented author, and it's always a pleasure to experience her prose.

Likely due to me not being the intended audience, I strongly disliked every single character. Their intentions, drive, and choices have a mix of fatuousness and injudiciousness I found unpalatable.

Matt consistently delivers the best weird fiction modern literature has to offer.

This was way more fun than it had any business being.

If this were the best modern Science Fiction had to offer, we'd be properly fucked.

A love letter to Harlem.
Beautifully human.

I see what Max was going for, but I don't think filling a checklist a good book maketh.

Talented author, though.

A B minor sonata crescendo in word form.

A novel with plenty to like and little to love.

To W.S

Genuinely poor.

Whichever pair of good ideas existed within were lost in a sea of poor grammar, syntax, and astoundingly lacklustre dialogue.

I so wanted this book to be good.

Therapy is kinda cool.

Despite our cyclical dance with destruction and disregard for lessons of the past, the indefatigable flame of human compassion and courage remains undimmed in the direst of scenarios.

And yet... how do we not learn?

This was beautiful, and chilling, and often frustrating.

A wondrous puzzle, effectively horrific at times, absorbing at others.

The fragmented narrative and elusive references to the titular play add an extra layer of mystery, which I felt enthralling.

Echoes of some of the ideas live through modern horror.

Oh Annabelle, no one really know what they're doing. We make it up as we go along, spice or no spice.

This was better than it had any business being.

Oh Maurice. You silly man.

It's probably me.