It's so sad to see lovely and delicious and delicate words get mangled. My award for purplest prose I've read in a while:
need I go on? Because I think I needn't. And quite frankly, I'd prefer not to."Joanna Howard's lapidary debut On the Winding Stair is an escalier spiraling with brocaded lyricism, alternately swathed in darkness and bathed in phosphorescence. Metaphysical spaces coexist with vivid corporeality in a place where words aren't so much modified as they are baroquely embellished, cast in irreality..."
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