In this text—is it a novel, or a poem, or a report?—let’s just call it a “text lacking all glutamates and conservatives and flavor enhancers,” the tired language of the contemporary novel has been renovated. A masterpiece in which resources are invoked, not used. A classic.
—J. S. Simpson, The Daily Economy
Pure mysticism. Squaring the circle. Pythagoras would have loved it.
—H. F. Wood, New Ideas in Architecture
The emptiest and most pretentious pedantry reaches its zenith in this novel. Who was the author trying to fool?
—R. Santos-González, Revista Clara de Literatura
The first truly twenty-first-century artifact has been written in the Spanish language. Which rock was it hiding under?
—S. Merz, Art & Language Today
A nonsense, nothing more.
—Arcadio de Cortázar, “Letras en Plenitud,” Buenos Aires Post
The great poem of underlying harmony, positioned beneath the superficial layers of established culture. A portable internet. A shock to the system.
—Wang Wei, Cooking and Taste Bulletin
Without a doubt set to become the new indie icon.
—C. Walker, Manchester Music
Reading it is like experiencing the petulance of the author, blended in with a handful of out-of-date rags, and served in an unrecyclable plastic cup.
—Ignacio Foix-Salat, El Hilo de La Tinta
All novels have suddenly aged by fifty years. After reading this, we can’t look back in the same way.
—J. Hankel, Microcomputer Studies and Art