<p>'This is ... real literature, pure and honest.' <b>Vladimir Nabokov</b></p><p><b> </b>'The miracle of Yuri Felsen is how his apparently Nabokovian rhythms lull you into a false sense of security, before a sudden and chilling exposure to the weather of a walk where the whole elegantly interwoven conceit of the narrator is ripped apart. And the pain of someone like Walser glints through a decadent surface of exiled life in Paris, to hint at darker shadows to come.' <b>Iain Sinclair</b></p><p><b> </b>'<i>Deceit</i> is a strange and beautiful dream, an intimate and tragic love letter from a lost world.' <b>Camilla Grudova</b></p><p>'Towards the end of this strange novel in the form of a strange diary the narrator declares that "it is impossible to live without deceit". What has preceded this bald statement is the work of a connoisseur of deceit in its multitudinous forms, the most potent being a subset of self deceptions described in painful raw detail. It’s a work steeped in absolutely joyous misery.' <b>Jonathan Meades</b></p><p>'Dark thickets of language part to reveal a pearl of psychological prose and a highly actual account of the psychic impermanence of migration.' <b>Sasha Dugdale</b></p>