The Hall is a giant ascension machine in which the characters - Castanedan dreamers and stalkers all, except for our hero Laughing Boy - are the juice. Inside the escher folds they sit around talking bollocks till the cows come home.
Are the uncles really interchangeable? Will the annoying Roger Lang ever fuck off? Is deja vu really caused by people stating the bloody obvious over and over? Is Nanny Jack dead? Is the dog's opinion valid? Are there itches in the sky? Is the brain a parasite? What's with the Verger? Early pasta-hostile jokes mixed with body-horror, lucid dreams, etheric architecture and a few bits of satire. All disguised as a kid's book.
'Shrewd and savage wit that scales astonishing heights ... A cult classic in the making.' Melody Maker
'Aylett's distorting mirrors are crueller than most ... It's like the Addams family written by Peake on ecstacy.' New Statesman