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In his lastest work of genius, the author has done with words what Christo does with cloth. If one is not overwhelmed by the twists and intrigues of the massive plot, there is so much more to enjoy. The character development is subtle, yet in the end it shows the majesty of the tomatoes in the face of doom at the hands of the evil vegetarians. The author uses wording sparingly, yet says it all -- and a prison story without one profanity is rare indeed. Prose? Or poetry?
Bravo, I say, bravo! Encore!
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It wouldn't be right to dream, while
Forgetting to live, it seems;
Nor would it be right to dwell on life
And yet forget our dreams.
-If There Were No Magicians
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Nice job. I was expecting something totally different, which was probably the point.
