"Quin's spare prose line–delphic, obscure and hauntingly suggestive–creates a comparably vertiginous kind of enchantment. To submit to this unique book's spell is to experience, in language, a 'fantastic dance of images, shapes, forms.'" –Sam Sack, Wall Street Journal
"Quin works over a small area with the finest of tools. Every page, every word gives evidence of her care and workmanship." –New York Times
"Quin's prose never falters; it's stunning." –Paris Review
"Quin was a writer ahead of her time." –Publishers Weekly
"Vividly intense and almost palpably immediate." –Irish Times
"Quin uses carefully crafted imagery to stimulate the reader's subconscious." –Booklist
"Quin tosses out hefty dashes of mordant humour and caustic wit." –Library Journal
"I suspect that Ann Quin will eventually be viewed, alongside B. S. Johnson and Alexander Trocchi, as one of the few mid-century British novelists who actually, in the long term, matter." –Tom McCarthy
"Ann Quin is a master painter of interiors, of voices that mosaic as they catch the light at strange, stirring angles." –Chloe Aridjis
"Quin's militant refusal to compromise flavours her writing: you either take her on her own terms, or not at all. Richer and stranger than the satisfactions of mainstream fiction." –Jonathan Coe
"Quin understood she was on to something new." –Deborah Levy
"One of our greatest ever novelists. Ann Quin's was a new British working-class voice that had not been heard before: it was artistic, modern, and–dare I say it–ultimately European." –Lee Rourke
"One of Britain's most adventurous post-war writers. Psychologically dark and sexually daring." –Juliet Jacques
"Rare enough is a book that begins by stating its intention–rarer still one that proceeds to do seemingly everything it can to avoid following the path its intention has laid." –Danielle Dutton
