This is a book full of pain, probably some of the worst emotional pain available to humans. (Physical pain is present, but it's mostly elided.) The prose borders on luminous, the shape and telling of the story is confident and precise, the characters in all their quirks and pain feel remarkably like real people. None of the narrators is exactly reliable, so trying to figure out what exactly is happening in the novel is ... something like impossible--that touch of PoMo is probably the novel's sole weakness, along with the attendant ambiguity about whether there's anything actually supernatural happening (I think the signs point to yes). Very strong and very worth reading, and I'll be keeping Tremblay in mind on future quests for reading material.
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