Sister not Mother, Sister not Mister, Sr not Mr


“I eat so much I sometimes vomit in my mouth…”

This story’s reading is like that, for ‘eat’ read ‘read’. For ‘vomit’ read ‘review’. And I realised soon enough after starting to read this work that there is NO way I can do justice to this story. A girl, turned 11 years old only a few years ago, is now chickenblood streaming about herself and her Aunt and Uncle … and the Chicken Man … and the more I try to visualise even scratching the surface of this work’s bleeding sinews by means of a critique, well, what else can this story be, but a rape of an already dead reader! And this thought on my part does not get anywhere NEAR what this story does. I am just thankful that I fortuitously read DOCTOR CUCKOO yesterday HERE, a work that at least prepared me somewhat for the ending of this Baschir! God help me, though.



The context of above review here:

A doodling from a novel I’m enjoying at the moment, Lewis holding a chicken leg, the others killing a chicken:…” (from my review in 2013 of FIRST NOVEL by Nicholas Royle, here:

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