This novel struck me as Burroughsesque - William S. Burroughs, that is, there is nothing of Edgar Rice's Tarzan here. Surreal writing that is readable, that gnaws at you, that makes your eyes pop out.I know it's supposed to be about animism and the spirit world, but I read it as a straight account of how a boy experienced life there. I'd had a Nigerian friend and I found myself projecting a youthful, working class version of him into the scenes. I sort of envied the boy, Azaro, despite his poverty, the bleakness of his parents' work and lives. It before I ever lived in a land with mosquitoes and I must say I was in dread of them after reading.