It’s somewhat ironic that a book which celebrates literature should itself be so unliterary. There are any number of holes you could pick in Fforde’s writing style, but that would rather miss the point: this book’s appeal lies in its frenzied innovation, not in its wordsmithing, character development or even its episodic and somewhat incoherent plot.

I’m curious as to whether Fforde keeps the ideas coming later in the series, or whether having established his world he simply runs his stories through it. Not curious enough to read the next one particularly soon, though.