Kat

The last story, titled “Another Story, or A Fisherman of the Inland Sea”, is one of my favorites, and if I could rate just that, would get five stars.

The rest of the stories are good but not fantastic.

Heady, lush, pretentious, calculatedly poetic, unrelentingly beautiful, blatant wish-fulfillment. Always just toeing (and occasionally crossing) the line of sheer ridiculousness, but somehow, it worked.

It was a little creepy how many symbols from my own personal mythology featured heavily: keys, trains, maps, lists, the City, the power of dreams. (Apparently I am not a beautiful and unique snowflake.)

Many many layers of metaphor. Sex as a method of exploration, a key that unlocks a part of the world you would otherwise never reach. Inner/outer worlds echoing each other, becoming interchangeable. Escapism in the truest sense.

Even now I'm not sure if I loved this book because it was actually good, or if it was just one of those trashy addictive things I loved despite its trashiness. At its best moments it was Borges or Gaiman, at its worst, Poppy Z. Brite. Either way I devoured it.

The world was amazing and her development of the characters quite skillful. The plot could have been tighter and I'm still not sure how I feel about the ending.

One of those surprisingly good 70s SF gems. I love its gentleness and emotional depth, its progressive attitudes toward relationships, and the quiet strength of the protagonist. It's a world and a story that seems real somehow, very grounded.

I honestly can't remember why I liked this when I read it in high school. So. Depressing. And the protagonist is not even a real person, with actual emotions and motives you could relate to. I mean. I know that's also the point, but still. This book just makes me angry.

This book touts itself as a scientific look at the mechanism of love in the human animal. It's a little fruity at the beginning and end, but there was some good stuff in the middle. I give it 4/5 for its theories about limbic resonance, which I found very interesting (from a poetic perspective if nothing else).