In what is often described as a "fragmented novel," Nobel Prize in Literature laureate, Tokarczuk shares a collection of thoughts reminiscent of ruminations connected to traveling, peregrinations, flights. It felt like a game I used to play as a kid, in which we said a word, and the other children had to say the first thing that came to mind (like "green," "plants," "forest,"...). Whatever comes to mind when thinking of the word "flights" was probably added to the book somewhere.

The thing with this book for me is that it wasn't enjoyable. I see the value in it and the one-of-a-kind concept but didn't have a good time getting through it. Many times, I just felt bored. I struggle with sharing opinions about highly praised books that go against the norm, especially when the argument for why they are so good is something along the lines of "unique" and "complex" because I feel like I " have" to agree.

But this wasn't my personal favorite.