Paul Bowles' language is simple, unadorned, and uniformly precise throughout the novel. This is interesting, because although Bowles was embraced and idolized by the beat movement of the fifties - Kerouac, Burroughs, Kesey - he is not one of them. He has an ear for poetry and rhythm (Bowles was also a composer) and a merciless understanding of human psychology, but his writing is decidedly mannered and literary. He rarely slips into poetic language, and he never lets his verbiage slip in to the stream-of-consciousness vein, even as Port is slipping free from reality in the end of the second book.