A quiet, but forceful book. Maggie Nelson, as she did in Argonauts, finds a way to burrow into the reader’s head and plant her thoughts there. After a while, you begin to think that it is you who had these original, lyrical, thoughts. It is you who feels the world so deeply. It is you who loves color, sex, pain, intellect and all the other things Nelson loves. But it is never really you, of course. It is always Maggie Nelson’s writing. I feel smarter while reading her, and better for having done it.