Difficult reading, and I mean that along many dimensions. The story itself is painful, a train wreck from first to last page: feral children, poor decision-making skills, compounded by terrible luck, tied together by a fierce protective love... all they have is each other. There is suffering and cruelty, also compassion and tenderness, and it isn’t always obvious which is which.

Difficult—and I dislike myself for saying this—stylistically too. The writing has a choppiness to it that didn’t work for me, similar to the way Cormac McCarthy’s writing grates on me. The fault is entirely mine but it saddens me: I had been hoping to enjoy this book much more, but am not the kind of person who can.

Difficult, finally, because the story is so real; because I feel so powerless against this kind of suffering.