Well, let's be honest: I was bound to hate this book and to find reasons to hate it from the start, as I first heard it mentioned on the pointlessly pretentious podcast of a kid from my hometown, who was salivating at the thought of Lagioia's talent with words.
Yes, Lagioia writes well. Yes, Lagioia knows it. But does he need to remind the reader about it with countless pages of heavy-handed metaphors?
This book left me with nothing. I would have probably liked the story had it been written by someone not so completely in love with himself. Instead, I only have very vague recollections of the plot.
Yet, I'm sure there'll be plenty of people who'll praise this novel because they feel like they have to. And the wonderful local podcaster is probably one of those. Here's to you "Radical Nik", may the world of vanity publishing allow you to establish yourself as the great author you are (but possibly next time you compare yourself to Don DeLillo, do it with a bit of irony...)!
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