The descriptions of violence are visceral and more real than any I’ve read. I’ve read no Faulkner and so can’t comment on any claims of inspiration drawn, but Southern and most definitely Gothic this novel is. Such a tight control of language I have never read in a novel. It went skittering off down the canyon wall with the contents of the panniers exploding soundlessly in the hot dry air and it fell through sunlight and through shade, turning in that lonely void until it fell from sight into a sink of cold blue space that absolved it forever of memory in the mind of any living thing that was.Ī novel that deserves to be called biblical, a construct of bleak mythic proportions, an emptily exuberant wasteland, deeply serious, deeply violent, deeply significant. The following evening as they rode up onto the western rim they lost one of the mules. Psychologically sparse, sensorily dense altogether incredible, the prose blended a deep purple. A strange mixture of sparsity and density.
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