Listen, during the first.. I’d say maybe like 60 or so pages, I was almost questioning the experience everyone was claiming to have with this book. The prose bordered on too lyrical for my taste at first. It’s certainly not an easy read; it takes effort and concentration (which absolutely no one would call strengths of mine).

But despite my initial reticence, somewhere around maybe 1/3 of the way through, I felt myself becoming undeniably engrossed. By the time I reached 2/3, I was desperately devouring pages. This book had me crying. This book had my heart racing. This book had me wanting to literally cheer on my living room sofa like a buffoon.

It does read like poetry. I found it often helps to read out loud—to taste the words as you’re reading them—and I think that’s entirely intentional. There’s so much emphasis put on words in this story: the consumption (literal and figurative) of words, words as connection, and words as shelter.

I now understand what everyone was talking about. What a masterpiece. All I want to do now is re-read it.