John the Posthumous is one of those rare novels that comes only once in a lifetime. It is a novel that took skill to craft, time to procure, and an undying attention to style that must have taken Jason Schwartz years to perfect. At best this novel is as haunting as it is beautiful. At worse it is a failed attempt to convey a sense of… something.
If that doesn’t make sense, good. This isn’t your regular story that has a beginning, middle, and end. This isn’t even a story that takes a beginning, middle, and end and chops it up into a mosaic. This book is, in fact, not a story at all. It is, in fact, a mosaic itself.