Halloween Post II

Here's scary post II.

I picked up Cosmopolis, by Don DeLillo from the public library as an audiobook to help stave off the godawful boredom I feel when I'm on long runs. Except what I forgot is that godawful boredom is not best staved off by a godawful book. It really bothers me that DeLillo is thought of as such a brilliant author. I know this isn't his best work, but honestly, it's appalling and listening to it almost put me off running, because it's hard to run with a little voice in your head screaming "Shut up!" every 30 seconds.

I've tried to make my peace with him before, given that people I respect seem to find him important in some way that I've never been able to understand, because it's always such a struggle to get through anything he writes. His characters are written entirely unsympathetically, or at least in such a way that I can't muster up even a scrap of emotional investment in them. I hear people say he's witty and insightful nonetheless, but why?

The experience I obtained from Cosmopolis, running aside, could probably have been equally obtained by parking myself in the kitchen (stone cold sober) at a party between the hours of 2am and 5am, with a small handful of stoned misogynists with enormous egos, asking them earnestly how they really feel about international currency markets, world music, automobiles, sex, haircuts, and green tea ice cream.