DeWitt's debut novel demonstrates excellent stylistic control and adventurousness often using a lack of punctuation to create a breathless pace that when sustained for long periods tends to leave one breathless and nursing an incipient headache before
interruption by another character
continuing where it left of in mid sentence or even mid wor
d which can get a bit irritating actually. It is also funny particularly in the first half where pace and jokes are used in an attempt to distract attention from the hideous immorality hypocrasy and cowardice of the principle female character who is
mother caves in
mother to the fatherless extra-ordinarily precocious son that she royally screws up. That son mis-guidedly brought up on a continous diet of The Seven Samurai, goes in search of his father in an attempt to unscrew-up himself...let the bizarreness get raised to the third power.