Continuing the stooory of 1995, for some reason or other I had bought this book by Kobo (The Meat) Abé. Probably because it was on sale. Which also explains why I didn’t read it.
It turns out to be a fantastically written punch in the stomach. It’s a sandy, moist and claustrophobic horror show. And I kinda loathed it.
Well, that’s putting it too strongly. I liked bits of it, but…
There you go: It’s great, but I didn’t enjoy it.
I do enjoy the way some bookstores put the date they bought the book onto the price tags, though:
So the bookstore got the book in June 1988.
And I apparently bought it in 1995, on sale. And then I read it 18 years later.