Although the other reviewers are correct in observing that the ending lurches unsatisfyingly into a very different (and blurred and hackneyed) ending, this is nevertheless an interesting and illumintaing book for PKD fans to look at. The Afterword says it all. Dick, stuck in the rut of hammering out pot-boiling pap for his pulpy SF publisher (he hadn't yet quite found his voice, nor harnessed his full force) was at this time trying to broaden out into the mainstream. Books like The Man Whose Teeth Were All Exactly Alike, and Confessions Of A Crap Artist, were where Dick really wanted to be heading - exploring alternative realities in hum-drum, down home, small town settings. His publisher was having none of it. So here we have a wonderful dose of Dick's realism with a lurid SF ending tacked on by an impatient editor eager to satisfy the huge SF market of the time. It represents the crossover between Dick's mainstream and SF writing, and shows the author grappling with his Big Theme while struggling to find the right form. Only later did he achieve true greatness. In a way this book can be seen as a turning point, a fulcrum, in Dick's writing - and as such I found it an interesting (if ultimately flawed) novel.