I found this book devastatingly good. It’s disconcerting, strange and wonderful. It traces parallel journeys of discovery for two young people living with multiple personality disorder with tenderness and rawness. It’s the sort of book that I felt sorry about having finished, because I couldn’t spend any more time with the characters. The type of book that still has me thinking about it, a week later.
The only complaint I guess I have, is one I have about many authors who are particularly talented with tone and character. I don’t know why, but it seems that when authors have these aspects of fiction particularly honed, they lose the ability to craft a believable climax and denouement to their books. Somewhere along the line, it seems, these authors start to feel like something really big has to happen in order for the book to be over. So there’s often this strange overwrought thing, which then results in severe anticlimax. It’s a flaw, but not quite enough to take away from the pure magic of this one.