[So Long, See You Tomorrow] is an intriguingly intense account of an old man's recollections of a murder during his childhood. Maxwell … is interested in the interaction of place, history and spirit…. [He] evokes the mysterious currents of association and suggestion that unite us to our physical surroundings, most especially in childhood. He picks out the way minor details; arbitrary incidents, embarrassing hiatuses in our lives, may all link us beyond words or formulations to our own pasts or to each other's—and, most impressively, how such associations haunt our adult lives…. Maxwell doesn't simply tell us; he opens up our experience of this realization. Our adult memories, like a "continually retouched photograph" become "a roundabout, futile way of making amends," a "form of story-telling that goes on continually in the mind and often changes with the telling." Memory, the pressure of our private histories, like good fiction...