When I closed the back cover of this book, I surprised myself by saying, aloud to no one but myself: "I finally finished this shitty book," and felt rather pleased.

I haven't read Frank Delany's other books, and after reading this one I think I can be sure in saying that he is the kind of person who loves telling stories, but he doesn't share the same love of plots and crafting a piece of work

The first 70 pages are backstory, and the book should have started at a very specific event just after -- even the book jacket makes it seem that that is where the novel starts. The author also doesn't care if he jumps 50 years and back in one paragraph, which he does often. He also recaps everything that has happened so far in the middle of the book, as if your fingers are broken and you couldn't review it yourself, if so inclined.

I also feel that the ending of the book trailed off into nothing because the author *ran out* of story. That made me very sad, even though I was glad the book was almost over. I think the book could have done very well as a sweeping epic, 800 page sort of book, or as a shorter, 300 page book. In general length and otherwise, to keep this short, it was just an awkward read.

There were two things I *did* like about this book. I liked how it was set against the backdrop of an election, though I don't think that was used to its fullest potential, and I liked Venetia Kelly's relationship with her ventriloquist dummy.