A strange, haunted little book, like the lack of sound in a snow-covered landscape. A twisted meditation on history, memory, translation-how things hover below the surface of the real, waiting for language to thaw them and cast them out where we can see them just before they sink out of time or melt away. Sorry to be cryptic, but that's exactly what this book is. Really, it's about dreams-or, more precisely, about the state of uncertainty one feels when coming out of a dream, when the dream is still real, or before you realize that it's not.
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