I have a lot of feelings about this book (once again we rate on vibes), although they range primarily between kinship and frustration because it is, at its heart, a book about carving glorious bas reliefs into the walls that confine you. Or, more precisely, an attempt to understand how one can. And I do think that one of the most unknowable things in the world is the peace that others find in the compromises of their life.
And I'm struck in so many ways by the narrative Swamy constructs to seek that meaning and also the unbridgeable gulf remains.
Also I get very weird about people attempting to convey through style the experience of being a child with a child's thoughts and this was no exception so this book took me significantly longer to get into than I expected.