This is an interesting little novel, more literary than anything else--at least as I see it--though there's definitely some SF-adjacent premise that needs swallowed before you'll enjoy the novel. Heck, probably before the novel would even make sense. The novel is structured a little weird, with pretty distinct individual story arcs that mostly resolve in sequence, though there are some throughlines, and there is some sense that the sequence of resolutions is necessary. There are some pretty strong messages percolating up from the subtext, about tech and business and art and happiness and conformity. There's probably something about all the lies we tell ourselves, or at least allow ourselves to believe, wrapped up in something that smells strongly like the placebo effect. The prose is smooth and practically invisible, the characters are remarkably well-defined, though some might be more reliable than others (I don't get the feeling any of them is wildly unreliable, but it's always worth remembering--especially in something that bends at least a little literary--that the characters might not be telling what's actually happening around them). I grabbed it in spite of some skepticism, and I'm glad I did, there's a lot to like, here.
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