A strange, ambitious, and perplexing book. It begins strongly, with an enthralling account of the hero's grim childhood; then it becomes a grab-bag. About a hundred brief stories are related within the main story, and the relevance of the sub-stories to the primary one is not always evident (by contrast, there was scarcely a redundant line in Warren's splendid first novel, SLIGHTS). Some of the sub-stories are interesting, some are not. The main story is rather uneventful. The narrative tone throughout is detached and remote. There are also scholarly footnotes, appendices, and many digressions (ranging from arcana of superstition to a lengthy description of making bouillabaise) which, frankly, add little of interest. Characterization is sparse: the main characters are not rounded personalities, and seem more like allegorical figures than real people––but if the novel is an allegory, its meaning is elusive.
Although I feel the offbeat structure and style don't work, I can still applaud the author's imagination and daring. This is definitely no potboiler, and it never becomes truly dull. But what spoils the book for me is my revulsion at its apparent "message": that society would fall apart if its members faced reality, and people therefore must be shielded from it with comforting lies; those able to perceive, disseminate, and act upon truth must be murdered or incapacitated. It's the world-view of a religious or political megalomaniac.
Marvo, Warren's main character, goes about secretly altering the lives of others through magic. He does so in accordance with what he feels is fair, or with what is required to further his mission of keeping humanity ignorant of the realities of life. He can be generous to those he likes, but he is also casually sadistic when he comes up against those he dislikes or who oppose his agenda of deception. He is both ruthless and bland, and reminds me of those Nazi bureaucrats who were nice to their friends and regarded themselves as models of rectitude even as they practiced mass deception and killed people. Did Warren really intend that the reader should find him appealing or sympathetic? Unlike SLIGHTS' anti-hero Stevie, he is not made forgivable through pathos or sardonic wit.
On the other hand, perhaps I have missed Warren's point altogether. The novel is nothing if not ambiguous, and sometimes even flippant. At times one can almost believe Marvo is meant to be seen as monstrous––almost. A frustrating and unpleasant book, but not a stupid one.