Second paragraph of the third chapter:
| Wat hij leuk vond aan Esmeralda, wist hij niet zo direct te duiden. Het was een vaag gevoel. Misschien de vorm van haar ogen, het timbre van haar stem. Het was een gevoel als van een vingerknip. Als dat ene schitterende, ontluikende moment dat altijd zal aarzelen tussen twee seconden. Maar iets was er zéker. | He couldn’t immediately explain what he liked about Esmeralda. It was a vague feeling. Maybe the shape of her eyes, the timbre of her voice. It was a feeling like a snap of the fingers. Like that one brilliant, unfolding moment that will always waver between two seconds. But one thing was certain. |
I’m afraid that this novel about women disappearing in an unnamed city (which might be Belgian or might be Iberian) didn’t really do it for me. It may be that I missed important biots due to my Dutch not being good enough, but I didn’t grasp if there was an explanation for the disappearances, and if not, what the point was. I’m also dubious about settings that are both everywhere and nowhere. And I didn’t really see what the astronaut had to do with it. You can get it here.
I thought that this was the sf book that had lingered longest unread on my shelves, but in the end I don’t think it had any sfnal elements. Next on the unread sf pile is Moroda, by L.L. MacNeil aka L.L. MacRae.
