Mason Reynold narrates this rather odd tale involving a slave named Otha, a dog named Arf, and the arrogant and not-so-famous Edgar (Eddie) Allan Poe. Mason leaves his family farm, becomes accused of theivery and murder, and then meets Eddie Poe when he takes refuge in a town downriver. Eddie Poe is not the famous writer we know, but a struggling writer, alcoholic, and all around strange and detestable human being.

But it is Eddie's interest in a theory that the Earth is actually hollow that drives the main thread of the story as Mason becomes wrapped up in the fascination and follows Eddie and others into the twisted and strange hollow earth.

This is just about one of the weirdest stories that I have ever read, that touches upon rather uncomfortable subjects (like sex with corpses) and delves into various oddities. It is mostly this version of POe that offers the most discomfort and the everyday world before they enter the hollow earth. Once inside the story takes on a more surreal tone while managing to seem relatively plausible (for a book filled with shrimp-like pig things, flower people, and god-like sea cucumbers). I didn't know what to make of it while reading it, and I still don't know what to make of it. It certainly got more and more interesting as it went along, so I think I liked it. ( )

A re-write of Huckleberry Finn.

"Though I was born in 1821, I am seventeen today, not twenty-nine. The cause of this discrepancy is that twelve years passed during the single hour that Seela and I were in the heart of the Central Anomaly. Looking out from that frenzied zone, I saw the South Hole dim and brighten a full dozen times. For me, the New Year's Day of 1837 is as one month and one year ago, not thirteen." p 180 ( )