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The twenty-first century can't have been kind to this enormous fellow, and now
he's discovering other interesting things to do: chopping down trees, lifting rock
with his bare hands, fighting, knocking down women. Too bad he's so young;
Hence the conventional sand and palm trees. No, "desert" once meant only wild.
That it is. Day twelve. Victor's ill. He sat all day under the tent, dozing and taking
some sort of pills. Angina, I'll be bound. More hauling, more digging on that idiot ...
I could hear his breath stop, catch, go on, then stop again, like an electric motor
with a bad connection— too apt a comparison— catch a few times, go on, stop— I
think I was hypnotized by the tree's shadow as it crawled towards us, or the ...
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LibraryThing ReviewUser Review - crazybatcow - LibraryThing
I didn't like it. It started okay... seemed like it might be interesting, but then... it kinda went off the rails and ended up being some interior monologue between the main character and figments of ... Read full review
LibraryThing ReviewUser Review - Wattsian - LibraryThing
This is a really marvelous story about crash-landed space farers that deals with mortality, society, psychology, religion, feminism, politics and, most of all, the slow veil that falls as distractions go away and we are confronted Read full review