What are we without our regrets?

I liked it, but I didn't. The story had peaks of triumph's and low's where it was a struggle to read. What was the purpose of it all? What happened?

Anyone can wear beauty, but too often strength has no way to show itself and be admired.

Like some of my more recent reads I'm not sure how this book was added to my shelf, but I suspect r/fantasy had some part in it. This was a weird fantasy, not quite as out there as The Library at Mount Char while a little more grounded and urban like American Gods. One of those books I liked (Mount Char) and the other I disliked (American Gods) so that's why I struggled with The Etched City.

You're doing it again. Using reason to argue faith. Can't be done. Like playing croquet with a crochet hook.

The story flowed between two characters and then it was over. I felt the same dizzying and disorientated sensation Gwynn had while reading his chapters. I didn't enjoy the book but I didn't dislike it either. There were some big topics about faith and beliefs that were under the surface that while I may not have cared for how they were being presented I had to take notice of what was being presented.

And then there were passages like this: At that moment, he realized that he did not exist to her in the same way that he existed in his own perception. She held a copied version, an interpretation of him, filtered through the matrix of her priorities and desired. Therefore, surely, he only held a copy of her.

That is some heavy prose and is one of the best examples of what this book is like. I would recommend the book but only to learn how others felt about it. The world felt inconsistent and I wasn't sure if this was a western town or something more historical (yet there were alarm clocks).

Was the book fantasy or a literary exploration? Why did others like it as much, what did I miss? This book was a strange experience.

Here are some other quotes I captured from this weird and wild trip...

It came to her that perhaps she'd never been very good at being young, but might one day be better at being old.

Evil flourishes because the good are not good enough.