I think it took one, possibly two of the first sentences to realize how profoundly brilliant his writing is. By page twenty or thirty, I was...what, jealous?, unwilling to hear so much magic without being sold anything? At any rate, I´m stuck in place, fully aware I am missing an astonishing image or expression in every sentence to come but wondering if I am just a pub patron watching an impresario show off for many other storytellers of his country.