I read this book in two sittings, all in one evening. I could not put it down. Not because the plot was especially gripping, rather the opposite is true, but because the world Hur spun was one I wanted to live in—flaws and all. I could feel each character's distress and desire; I could see the world they each wanted to build, but how hard, how impossible, those dreams were. But there is power in the dreaming. 

I keep trying to write additional paragraphs, but they all are flat. Or just aimless adulation for the book, waxing about some small aspect I adored: the poetry, the music, the world-building, the narrative style, the definition of humanity, the reconfiguring of the world, the way language and self are interwoven. For such a small book, there are so many things, and all executed gorgeously. 

I cannot wait to see what Hur writes next.