"the point is... invalidation," one of the characters says. Or something like that. That is the point of this book, alright.
This book is lots of thought, no wisdom.
Lots of mulling and self absorption and obsession. No passion. Just mindless repetition.
Is Delillo saying this is what happens when there's a major tragedy?
Is he saying that humanity has so little energy, so little humility, so little imagination, so little humor?
Yes. That's what he's saying.
Dust thou art to dust returnest. Is what he's saying.
I think the man's in need of an anti-depressant.
God, what a deadly group of characters.
No more Delillo for me.
It took me three months to finish this book. I wish I had read it instead of listened to it. The narrator was monotonous and hard to follow, he had no emotion in his voice. I got bored and would have to stop for days before I would try again.