The raw power of language lives in every line of this masterpiece. Beautiful phrases such as these can be found on every page: “Daylight slants like a razor cutting the buildings in half.” – “The young are not as young here, and there is no such thing as midlife.” – “An inward face – whatever it sees is its own self.”

However, once the story starts to track back the main characters' history to the generation before them, one cannot shake the feeling that Morrison doesn't really have a concept beyond the exploration of human behaviour. And since the story doesn't move forward (it jumps back and forth around one particular moment), this gets exhausting after a hundred pages.

In essence, this is a showcase of literary style, trapped in a narration that doesn't move anywhere. Depending on what you expect from a novel, this may affect you more or less.