niriop
8/19/2019
It took me far too long to read this, and it is mostly my own fault, although it was at times a strangely difficult read before speeding up towards the middle and onwards.
A surprisingly "modernist" novel (think Ward Moore's novelette "Lot" and its use of Joycean forms), devoid of any pulp inclinations (aside from an "anti-gravity" device, but that's more of a MacGuffin than anything else) and a great deal of psychological complexity.
I do wish to read more Sturegon after this, but want to go back to his short stories first.