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kalchainein's review against another edition
Intricate prose cannot be all that holds a story together, and after the first half-dozen stories, you quickly realize that all of Lutz’s characters have the same sinking, banal detachment from their lives, their spouses, their children, their jobs, their neighbors, their surroundings, and themselves, and it all becomes a repetitious slog whose only aim appears to be to drag the reader into a depressing nihilism, but not even, because at least nihilism requires you to feel something.
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