The novel seems, like a poem, to be written line to line. It is very much a book about one man, one sensibility. . . . Yet in this book he has not found a subject to match the scale of his talent and intelligence. You'd think so, just hearing about it. The much-misapplied term 'minimalist' can pretty accurately apply.
Transitions are rocky and the view can be dim.
At other times, Johnson's unique lyricism lights up his book's interior world . . . There's no doubt about the power of this writer's vision. Her decision to string together a series of self-contained vignettes could have resulted in meandering tedium, but she manages to find a loose, improvisatory rhythm that matches Mr. Johnson's discursive riffing, and that gives her scenes a keen edge of surprise.