vocabulary gone awry / by mrm

It's so sad to see lovely and delicious and delicate words get mangled. My award for purplest prose I've read in a while:
"Joanna Howard's lapidary debut On the Winding Stair is an escalier spiraling with brocaded lyricism, alternately swathed in darkness and bathed in phosphorescence. Metaphysical spaces coexist with vivid corporeality in a place where words aren't so much modified as they are baroquely embellished, cast in irreality..."
need I go on? Because I think I needn't. And quite frankly, I'd prefer not to.