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This book of - philosophy? Psychology? Is so incredibly - unreadable - it hardly seems to be at all like it's written by the same JC Powys of his other books. To call it extremely long and "tedious" would be an understatement - he has an incomprehensible theory about what he calls the "complex vision" - a combination of 11 different things - and - perhaps I'm just not smart enough to understand - but it goes on for pages and pages - and while I kept hoping for nuggets of Powys' insight and - help me - humor - I felt helpless, paragraph after paragraph that just escaped me. Perhaps, and this is a big perhaps, it will help me understand some of his later works - I suspect that the various "epiphanies" many of his characters have are perhaps moments of this "complex vision", but rather I think this is Powys going off on a bizarre tangent. You might say it's genius or insanity, but rather I suspect he's just a very bad and confused philosopher. Writers are sometimes good and bad at various things - JC Powys is a genius at fiction, literary criticism, and personal self-help/realization, fairly decent at poetry, but really terrible at philosophy and contemporary commentary. I suppose the philosophy may turn out helpful in understanding his later work (if so I will come back and edit this review) but my memory of his later novels do not seem to relate to this work at all.