The author takes the reader into a phantasmagoric world where streets are paved with human remains and men are apocalyptically condemned to death by the fire of their loins. And yet, despite recurrent nightmares, the
world is also home to calligraphers who continue to record dreams that en-compass the past, present, and future in a sort of Borgesian circularity. The absolute certainty that life begins in dream, that the world beyond is what lends ours a semblance of reality, that only the meditation of ancestors offers a link to the gods, has seldom been expressed with the depth of conviction one finds in this work. For all its contemporary relevance, it has at its core a
dialogue between the living and the ancestors that creates a powerful reso-nance between the bones of the dead and the echoes of their survivors.