I'm still not entirely sure what to make of this. I had to read it in short bursts because it's so narratively lithe and sometimes exhausting. I gave up trying to understand it and treated it as an experience instead and enjoyed it all the more for that.
Weird, beautiful little book. Like every story I’ve ever been told has been planted, bloomed, and cross bred with poetry into a new sort of floral arrangement of words. Better if you don’t expect prose, and allow it to wash over you rather than digest it.