The Times has a few words about Gil Sorrentino's last novel, The Abyss of Human Illusion. It's a short one, but it looks like a beaut. I talked before about his riotous Mulligan Stew, and at some point I should take a few grafs to talk about Imaginative Qualities of Actual Things. That for me was Gil at his most barbed and incisive, taking a scythe to the heads and torsos of the art-world phonies littering his world. And then planting the corpses upside-down on the beach for the gulls to pick at.