This is one of those books I admire rather than love. It's a stunningly original and intelligent text - but goddamn, does it go on and on and on. I was ready for it to finish 300 odd pages before it did. Yes, I'm aware that makes me a Philistine. No, I don't really care.

World-building in SFF is a two edged sword. I tend to begrudge it, necessary though it may be, as too often it's used as an excuse to write an encyclopaedia rather than a story. This is definitely the case here, and framing it as an anthropological exploration of a society doesn't make me care any more. I was interested in Stone Telling, deeply so, but her story kept getting shunted off to the side for another go at describing houses or musical instruments or grammar. I found that deeply frustrating, even though I recognise it as a means to compare and contrast with the problems of modern life. In that it succeeded, but its relentless approach to the subject matter was frequently a hammer blow to my interest.