I wonder how much of the backstory Park actually has worked out; clearly more than he lets us in on, but I felt like the rules (or perhaps practices) of the hidden world weren’t all that consistent. By playing so explicitly with the arbitrariness of the world, he runs the risk of readers giving up on there being any fictional reality at the center of the work (maybe it’s just books by Aegypta, all the way down).

I like your term, counter-programming. At many (most?) of the narrative branchings, Park takes one that runs against expectations. I was less concerned with the state of geeky misfits in the new world than I was with the way that time ran, or the casual way in which major characters meet their fate. I think there’s a lot to your “appreciate more than love” assessment, though I also know I’m far more likely to go back to Roumania than to tackle all of Ice and Fire again.

I could quibble about Gaiman, too, but I largely agree that — aside from Neverwhere — his fiction is excellent but not transcendental.

I wonder if Haruki Murakami would make your cut for genre… probably not, if Borges didn’t.

Ice and Fire may be better for being unfinished; everyone who’s interested can imagine their own resolution. Martin’s best book, I think, is The Armageddon Rag.

I’ve had the same experience with Little, Big. People love it or can’t stand it, with very little in between.

I like Hobb, but as a very “core” genre writer, someone who isn’t stretching or challenging what mainstream commercial fantasy has become.

I agree Tolkien isn’t responsible for bad imitators. But as I said, part of what I’d like to think about with a list like this is what comes of a work, not just the individual qualities of a work. I should read Stewart’s Merlin books again, it’s been ages, but they didn’t overwhelm me when I read them (a very long time ago).