In the deep dark, in the thousand-fathom black waters of ancestral memory and instinctive unconscious, where old gods and primitive responses float invisible and gigantic, something moves. The dust debris on the ocean floor, sediment a million years still, lifts and swirls in its wake.
All I can think to say is that if you can imagine Samuel Beckett and Philip K. Dick collaborating to write a novelization of Jaws, you’ll have a decent idea of what you’re getting into with Steven Hall’s The Raw Shark Texts. The world he creates is astounding; even more so is the fact that a story like this can be so damn gripping.
