This was epic and intimate and sacred and secular all at the same time. Liked it much better than Habibi, probably because it was so personal. But it's like pulling a bandage away from a raw wound . . . you can only look at it so long before your stomach turns. Craig Thompson's brain is like a raw wound and it puts forth beauty and sadness in equal measures. I probably won't ever read this again -- you know, because of the sad -- but I'm glad I read it the once.