![]() ![]() ![]() There came a point where my eyes started glazing over and bouncing off even the most lush descriptions in search of something – anything – more. Its soporific pacing adds to dreamlike quality, but after a few dozen pages my brain got restless and wanted more, wanted to look past the lovely stage sets and find within a bit more of a story. But on an occasion such as this it was different, for the spirit of convention was being rigorously adhered to, and in between his ribs Mr Flay experienced twinges of pleasure.”īut on the other hand, it’s a glacially slow story with little direction, characters dully doing senseless things, and dreariness becoming oppressive as pages and pages crawl by. He saw in happiness the seeds of independence, and in independence the seeds of revolt. “It was not often that Flay approved of happiness in others. It’s a masterfully conveyed setting, so meticulously created that it’s like looking at paintings and movie stills. ![]() It’s like a fever dream where you are trapped, like trying to run through gelatin air, a fly trapped in amber. And those vividly artistic descriptions, painting every scene with precise brush strokes. An almost Gothic vast castle populated with dreary people rigidly clinging to rituals and ceremonies, people both grotesque and pathetic, with a healthy dose of weird creepiness. On one hand, the concept is interesting, even fascinating. This book exhausted me too much to even give it a proper tongue-lashing. ![]()
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