Yeah, Landsale's a legend. This is him operating near the top of his game, with not only a ripping story (he always has ripping stories) but also some things to say. Those non-story things sit neatly mostly in the subtext, muttering about religions and cults and politics and grifts and the human frailties all those things prey upon. There's some sizzling dialogue, and some glorious phrase-turning outside the people talking, because Lansdale gotta Lansdale. After the hard ricochet off last night's novel, I wanted to read something I was confident I'd find pleasing; success!
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Dandelion Wine by Ray Bradbury
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