I think you’ll find there’s a more straightforward story than it seems at first glance, beyond the lush aspect, the weird connections, and the flash back and forward. It’s about the scariest feeling on earth: being stuck, being irremediably stuck, and being unable to see the world from any other place than that constant fear that whatever you do it’s gonna come down to something stronger than you crushing anything you might want to acheive before it even starts. And that’s where I feel Ware’s style intervenes beautifully, it’s both a morose aesthetic and a crazy profound one, as if the story, the images, the typos itself never quite accepts the awful starting/ending point it’s describing, or laugh at it constantly. It’s both ironic, cynical, and at the same time, when you think of the amount of work, of dedication, of thoughts about taste and what beauty can mean that the whole thing required, it has that kind of hidden almost unavowable hope I love to find in bleak stories. I could speak about it for hours because its relevant to my work in so many ways I can’t count but yeah, do take some time and read it as if it was not the maze it kinda is, and at some point you’ll just realize it works out and you finished it and maybe (always maybe) you’ll even be moved!
(Post Scriptum: it’s also a story about family, getting old, human psyche, USA and all that stuff, I just pitched it very quickly from a purely general point of view)