The texture of the novel, especially of the people that inhabit it, more than makes up for an unfortunate lack of cohesion and overall sense of this really going anywhere (other than waiting for the next terrible thing for Glen to do to Bone).
Uncle Earle is a great character, him and Bone hold this novel together.
It’s as if the narrator of the novel got all their information from the half-lucid ghost of Ursula and assumed everything she said was true and it all happened just like she remembered it.
I wonder if it’s ever possible to be present at the exact moment when a story, say like the telling of an actual Theseus, turns into legend and supernatural myth? There’s probably no one moment, of course, only the path it took.