I’m sorry I marked the first paragraph of the first chapter of this old and deckle edged first edition, but even so slightly used, oh what a still magical and mysterious experience the reading remains.

Adams’ work reminds: while a great writer may write with great economy, he may also write as if he and the reader had all the time in the world for melding into the work.  The Girl in a Swing is that kind of book, one that moves along with the force of a slow, deep current, and that from another world — well, a couple of them, actually — in any case far removed from the two-second Internetpressions so abundant, distracting, impersonal, and rapacious — they eat eyeballs while worming their way into minds, you know — in this cyberspace becoming also cybervoid.

So I have a well written book to read, and I am tempted to give it its cover-to-cover due in one sitting.