I have very little patience for novels that decide to use dreams and memories to flesh out their characters instead of bothering with proper characterization, and this is one of the most heinous offenders I’ve ever seen. Nor does it help that I don’t care about any of the characters enough to want to know anything more about them, and that the drudgery of those characters is surrounded by the drudgery of the Yukon landscape, which this book tries—and fails—to make interesting.
1.5/5
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