In interviews, Scibona has said that 10 years went into the writing of The End, and it shows--each sentence was worked over until it felt chiseled out of stone. The book's ambitious non-linear structure and the densely poetic texture of its language have clearly turned off other reviewers, but if you are at all a fan of the great Modernist writers (Faulkner, Woolf, Joyce, Proust, Djuna Barnes), you will find a feast here. I read this novel back in 2010 and it has stuck with me all this time. The main characters (we spend time in each of their points of view) are fully realized from the inside out, and six years later I still think of them, their complexities and failings and strengths. The strange structure of the book comes together so brilliantly in the final fifty pages or so, tantamount to a magic trick. I am overdue for a re-read of this novel. I can't imagine writing a better debut than this one.