John Keeble

Billed on the dustjacket flap as a "literary thriller," it really didn't succeed at either. The book really needed an editor, as the "literary" passages slogged more than sang, and the pace of the novel was too turgid to make it much of a thriller. For all the words dedicated to them, the characters still remained shallow to me, and the motivation of the menacing corporation behind-the-scenes was no more complicated than oil.

Too many words that didn't amount to much of anything.