by James K. Morrow
This is a hard one to decide what to think about it. It's a Vonnegut-esque farce: the giant corpse of God is found floating in the mid-Atlantic. Hijinks ensue. The author seems to have done his homework, leading discussions on Kant, theodicy, and similar while a WWII re-enactment society, Atlantis, ...
PJ's got me keen for a reread, because I remember almost nothing. Unlike others of Morrow's novels, I never really felt like I got this one. It's odd, but I'm not sure what Morrow's point was.
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