Memoirs of a Trespasser
“Who needs love when there is still cognac in the glass?”
-Philip Sava
The early exploration writing of Philip Sava bent the limits of post-modern fiction, revealing fantastical worlds that fooled many into believing they were, in fact, real. Sava’s kaleidoscopic collections, of which Memoirs of a Trespasser is the undeniable centerpiece, drew upon true experiences from his exotic travels but were infused with a hallucinatory inventiveness that set his work apart from others in the genre.
Though Sava had associates all over the world, he spent most of his time living in solitude on a ranch in southern Madagascar. Memoirs opens beguilingly with a fresh, bright vanilla, and grows deeper with oak and guiac smoke.
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Memoirs of a Trespasser
Memoirs of a Trespasser
“Who needs love when there is still cognac in the glass?”
-Philip Sava
The early exploration writing of Philip Sava bent the limits of post-modern fiction, revealing fantastical worlds that fooled many into believing they were, in fact, real. Sava’s kaleidoscopic collections, of which Memoirs of a Trespasser is the undeniable centerpiece, drew upon true experiences from his exotic travels but were infused with a hallucinatory inventiveness that set his work apart from others in the genre.
Though Sava had associates all over the world, he spent most of his time living in solitude on a ranch in southern Madagascar. Memoirs opens beguilingly with a fresh, bright vanilla, and grows deeper with oak and guiac smoke.
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“Who needs love when there is still cognac in the glass?”
-Philip Sava
The early exploration writing of Philip Sava bent the limits of post-modern fiction, revealing fantastical worlds that fooled many into believing they were, in fact, real. Sava’s kaleidoscopic collections, of which Memoirs of a Trespasser is the undeniable centerpiece, drew upon true experiences from his exotic travels but were infused with a hallucinatory inventiveness that set his work apart from others in the genre.
Though Sava had associates all over the world, he spent most of his time living in solitude on a ranch in southern Madagascar. Memoirs opens beguilingly with a fresh, bright vanilla, and grows deeper with oak and guiac smoke.
