"The most piercing, most beautiful sea tale I’ve read. Told almost entirely through dialogue—through Caribbean dialect, no less, where “Captain” becomes “Copm”—with the sparest possible narration, as precise as haiku, and pictographs, inkblots, great tracts of white space on the page. Nine working men set sail on an old schooner out of Grand Cayman, hunting green turtles. They talk to fill the ocean silence, their speech unattributed, and the drama circles and tightens. “Green turtle very mysterious, mon.” The characters sharpen into high suspense and tragedy. Matthiessen’s touch, his ear, his eye, his taut presence just outside the story’s frame—all miraculous, mon."

"I was a little sceptical at first, because he's so young. The term 'blues' has come to be quite different than what I know as blues in a traditional sense. I've been tagged as this blues-rock guitar player and on more than a tolerable number of occasions I've been accosted by people who say, ""You must listen to this new young guy! A blues player, you won't believe it!"" And usually, no, I don't. 

Quinn Sullivan seems to have what it takes. The 'blues' seems to be rediscovered about every ten years but in this case I think it's well done. It's certainly encouraging. Interpreting the blues in an appealing manner is not so different than attempting to speak a recently-learned foreign language. You can memorise the instruction book but it's the dialect that allows you to enter the society as a true speaker of the language."