Status Updates From Patience, a Steady Hand

Unable to resist I find I cannot pull myself away from this read:
<¡>Eames puts his hands on Arthur and knows the answer to the riddle he could never put a name to, through the empty ache of his cold boyhood, the space he tried to fill with prayer and couldn’t, the hole he lined with drawings of beautiful things he’d never touch."

What was that crazy, mad, wonderful, brilliant piece of sweep-me-away literature?!