To use terminology of the period, this book blew my mind. Irving told a compelling tale that came together with an impact that nearly knocked me out of my chair. Owen Meany was an unending delight and I wept for him at his funeral as if he were a dear friend. It is a testament to Irving’s skill that this book moved me so much more than the myriad excellent works I’ve recently read that cover themes substantially closer to those I’m struggling with in my own life.