I feel like this book was born of a long thinking session before bed. It’s fascinating but lack structure. No central thesis emerges.
Sure, there is the thesis that “everything is tuberculosis” should be present, but Green abruptly switches from his personal experiences to unsolicited anecdotes to history to morals to whatever else.
This could’ve been a very interesting essay. Absolutely not a novel.
— 1 hour, 40 min ago
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