I think I am the only person in the universe who doesn’t think this book is sheer genius. I think it might actually have been ruined for me by the rave reviews I read of it before I started it, but whatever the reason it just underwhelmed me. The pacing and the attempt at mystery didn’t work for me; the lack of names really didn’t work for me. It felt very film-like in its focus on physical gesture and its montages of small scenes, and I think it would have worked brilliantly as a movie. As a book it wasn’t my cup of tea.

Its the best book I’ve ever read, and I daren’t finish it for fear that my life will be ruined by it

The poetic style is what pulled me through the story. A bit overdone at times, perhaps too convinced of how remarkable its own ‘remarkable things’ are, but the minimalist approach to character and plot largely works. Until the ending, at least, which was shockingly at odds with the quality and freshness elsewhere in the novel.