I have returned from the depths of that which lurks offline. I still have one more exam and the desire to simply hybernate dominates my urges, but I am more than fit to return to a frequent and steady posting schedule.
A Book of Tongues can be best described as “haunting”. The prose is lyrical. It coils, sedates and is addictive as opium fumes. It’s much an enchantment as it is a snare, which snaps around the reader and drowns him in the book’s stark vividness. The story reads like a fevered, fragmentary dance, divided into three books, which roughly equate to exposition, build-up and resolution.
Take a peek.
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