Y'know, I haven't really talked much about the Faulkner-Proust-Joyce power trio here, and honestly, I kinda have a love/hate relationship with this book. On one hand, very little happens and the writing style is hard to follow, featuring run-on sentences galore. And on top of all that this book has an incredibly wide cast of characters, several of which who honestly lack enough flavor for the book to really work for me. HOWEVER on the other hand this book is really really really really really (seventeen more reallys) good. It masters the southern gothic vibe, of course, and on top of that, this book is written very beautifully with several really interesting stream-of-consciousness segments scattered in between; Vardaman and Dewey Dell's chapters are my favorite personally as they tend to have the most of that. My mother is a fish darl is my brother darl is crazy
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