This book was a Hugo Finalist, and you can see while reading it why
it both did so well, and why it didn't win. The book starts as a
large section of Europe suddenly changes into an untamed wilderness
of different plants and animals, as if two different realities have
collided together.
Wilson's style of writing, at points, is absolutely incredible. The
journal entries fall into this catagory, and could have made a
story on their own. Unfortunately, at other points, you have the
feeling he was only writing the scene because he was forced to.
Some characters are highly developed, only to later drift off into
unimportant roles for the book's climax. And at one point, the book
makes such a drastic change that one wonder's if the structure
would have been better off as two books (like the Hyperion and Fall
of Hyperion) instead of one.
Don't let the above fool you: with a great book, it's easier to
pick out little faults than with a so-so book. I have lent this
book out to a dozen friends by now.
Keep an eye out for Wilson; from the books and short fiction I have
read by him, I think his praises are not sung nearly as much as
they should be.