Lark Benobi's Reviews > The Only Good Indians

I was moved, dazzled, continuously surprised. The story leaped around unabashedly. It's like the writing-equivalent of improvisational jazz, where the base chords of the horror genre are familiar--a relentless monster, gore in just the right places, and a plucky heroine who may or may not make it--but the improvisational leaps around these base chords were magnificent and strange. Many of the happenings in this book are incoherent on a literal level. It didn't matter. I cried at the end.