Frankly, I don’t know what to make of this book. The basic premise is that a young man, a free lance reporter, goes to the Lousiana bayou country to find the missing heir to a fortune, and possibly write the biggest story of his career. The town is reticent to give him any information, but suggests he talk to an elderly lady living deep in the swampland, on an island in the middle of a lake.
That is the last sane episode of the book, which then takes off on a fantasy binge involving every mythological creature you can think of, gods, goddesses, shape shifters, dragons, and a dizzying rondelay of a battle involving creatures, swords of Poseidon, fire, wizards, witches, that I felt I was reading the description of a video game: whack, thwack, crash, blood, red and green, and yellow, and on and on.
Frankly, although in it’s own way it was fun, basically, the whole thing made no sense, was incoherent and illogical, and yet I compulsively read on until the very last page.
I know I am one of the universe’s True Crabby Curmudgeons, so I thought I would check out what the folks had to say on Goodreads. They LOVED it! Loved it! I was stunned. Nobody seemed to think it was a bizarre and strange book. I must live in an alternate universe.
Yet another reason I don’t read fantasy. I like my stories to make some kind of frail sense.