For the first fifty pages I remember being quite taken with the writing style. It is blunt and eccentric, quite refreshing from dense writing of The Plague. The discussions of the characters are similar to those you might hear on Seinfeld, the "show about nothing." However, just like Seinfeld, you can only take so much of it. About halfway through the book I was ready to move on. The novel bounces around so quickly that it is sometimes difficult to follow. The characters are so intentionally shallow that I found a difficult time actually caring what happened to them.
I guess the real kicker is that Delillo wrote this criticism of consumerism way back in 1985, prior to our entering the Paris Hilton era. Imagine the firepower he would have writing this book today...
Granted, this novel did win the National Book Award in 1985. But like most books that win awards such as these, they have to be somewhat off the beaten track. Personally, I wasn't impressed, but you might be. Happy reading.
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