With 350,000 copies sold in little Holland alone, it would be unwise to assume there would be no takers for what at first seems like a purulently disgusting small book which reminds us of those more curious years in the '60's -- as told by a sculptor who devotes himself primarily to palping flesh. And landscaping every aperture and appendage. This is during the heyday of his love for Olga, a preternaturally beautiful young girl until she begins to run down and eventually leaves him. At the end however he returns to her bedside -- she has had a brain tumor removed -- where she wastes away, bald and blind, nibbling at the Turkish Delight he brings her. . . This could easily stick in your throat unless it's deep enough to accommodate just about anything.