4.5 stars rounded up. Glad to have grabbed this one on a whim from The Beguiling in Toronto after the cover caught my eye. A quick read but by no means lacking in depth. Like many of my favourite stories (or at least the ones that stick with me the longest) this one didn't spoon feed its themes or even general meaning of the story to its readers, but instead trusts us to take whatever meaning we can from small glimpses of narrative supplemented by more impressionist moments that convey things that can't quite be conveyed anywhere but between the lines and in the art itself.
My experience with this book reminds me of one of those optical illusions where you stare at a picture long enough that when you close your eyes, we are left with a smoky afterimage imprinted in our minds eye. But instead of a picture, this left me with a feeling. I'm still not completely sure what it all meant even after a second read, but beyond the story itself, I think it was about the temptation to isolate and remove ourselves altogether from our trauma and our complicated feelings, and to lose ourselves to the ether: whether that means unity and oneness with nature, or complete oblivion. Though maybe those are the same thing?