Snowman has spent a terrible night, full of confused, whiskey-sodden dreams, and when the Children of Crake call to him from the bottom of his tree he is still mostly asleep.
"You don't exist!" he shouts. "You're not even characters in a Margaret Atwood novel! You're just part of a review. And Manny won't write it until Jordan's finished the book as well."
None of this makes sense to Snowman, and it makes even less sense to the Children of Crake.
"What is a novel?" asks Eleanor Roosevelt.
"And who is Jordan?" asks Madame Curie. "Is she the same as Oryx?"The rest of this review is in my book If Research Were Romance and Other Implausible Conjectures