Turns out, Going Down is a very direct (if unexpected) ancestor of Reader's Block and all the not-quite-novels that followed. It's morbid and achingly intellectual, a trip through a kind of art-historical catalog of the dead, the maimed, and the crazy.
It's also very definitely a novel, a thriller, even, if you believe the jacket copy. Though I can't deny that it contains plenty of sex and death and intrigue (and, as Mr. Vonnegut points out on the cover, it does leave one rather woozy), I'm not sure yet that I'd quite go so far as to call it a thriller, but I still have a few pages to go.
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2 comments:
i'm going to use you to compile my summer reading list. i havent read anything decent under my own volition in who knows how long.
i'm trying to keep track of all the books i read this year, which is a bizarre process. it makes me feel compelled to read good things, even though the only one seeing the list is me.
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