Stella Maris, Cormac McCarthy

 Oh my.

A companion piece to the disappointment that was The Passenger, and it comes across as a poor man's The Whalestoe Letters by Mark Z Danielewski -- the one thing in this book that's sort of kept a mystery for most of the runtime (who is her secret love) is not exactly a mystery at all, obvious from so early on.  Maybe because of reading The Passenger first, but that's the recommended reading order anyway, so pffffft.

It just sort of peeters out into nothingness -- no great revelation, no real musing on anything interesting, no real point to any of it other than passing the time in thank god only 189 pages instead of 381.