John Crowley's writing is so magical.

Last year I listened to the "Little, Big" audiobook (narrated by the author) and when it was done I remember sitting on my couch and crying. Not because it was sad but because I spent weeks living in what felt like a Studio Ghibli movie as I listened and I didn't want it to be over. I remember insisting my dad and friend read it and they just "couldn't get into it" in the words of my father.

Now I am listening to his book "Ka." It's not the exact same caliber as Little, Big mainly because Little, Big's scope was so immense, but the magic is so palpable. There is almost a spiritual element to it that is hard to describe. It feels like Crowley really has visited this dream-realm of magical, fae creatures where life exists in symbolism and things feel profound and ancient. When he writes I feel like I am remembering something I had forgotten for a long time.

I don't know why he is not a household name. Maybe just because beyond the Latin American classics, fantastic realism is not the most popular genre, and even then there is a mystical element to his works that might be off putting or just boring to people who are not into that stuff. But I really, really love him and I'd recommend him to anybody whose heart still aches to live in a magical world.