A Greg Egan novel lives or dies by how well it explores its concepts - I mean, you're not reading them for the wooden mannequins that no longer have simple emotions get on the way of their discussions of rational futurism.

This book kinda chokes on that. I mean, it's still better than Distress, and it shows the unique physics-distortion that's the crux of the book in an interesting way, but doesn't really GO places. I know that's the whole point, but still.