Publishing Date: May 2016
Publishers Description: Mycroft Canner is a convict. For his crimes he is required, as is the custom of the 25th century, to wander the world being as useful as he can to all he meets. Carlyle Foster is a sensayer–a spiritual counselor in a world that has outlawed the public practice of religion, but which also knows that the inner lives of humans cannot be wished away.
Review: [In a Helen Mirren type voice]; “Oh, do try to keep up!”
This is the kind of novel that you can’t quickly dismiss for lack of entertainment value for fear the pseudo-intellectuals that have reviewed this folded morass of dialogue will banish you to the hills of Retardo. I say don’t be afraid to place your name tag in the pile of other dimwitted sycophants that secretly enjoy Benny Hill or Zoolander. Should you find yourself in the drugstore aisle fondling bottles of Pepto then perhaps it is ill advised to even ponder any attempt at reading what can only be described as a liberals dysutopian rendering of a future so far removed from reality that the named descriptions defy cogent reasoning i.e. made up shit-words.
As I continue to read I wonder at my own egocentric impulses to ride this pedantic horse till lathered and spent. If I fail to understand or even reason with the mishmash of worded wonderments, will I be less than zero? Will I have somehow missed the fookin’ Smart Train that rides through clear skies of overwhelming understanding? If I stutter in my attempts to comprehend, will I never gain the secrets of life that allude everyone but the chosen few?
This gets three stars for confusing the fuck out of everyone, and those that pretend otherwise are either godlings, liars or just enjoy bludgeoning narrative.