I think it is probably impossible to remain unmoved by David’s journey towards death, but as I accompanied him on it, I registered a nagging doubt that became increasingly insistent ... David’s faltering memory just so happens to fall into precisely the pattern of revelation employed by a traditional trauma-plot novel ... This certainty that novelistic convention would be obeyed works against the uncertainty Cline otherwise evokes so brilliantly ... When the novel moves past the Tom storyline, as it does with about 50 pages to go, it becomes its best self. Untethered from the duties of revelation it can fully immerse us in David’s pocked reality: impressionistic, arresting, upsetting, even funny ... Will probably stay with me for ever.
Starkly beautiful ... The novel’s lucidity is remarkable considering the dimming of David’s inner light, which Cline portrays with a laser focus and deep sympathy. It adds up to a striking meditation on mortality.
