The first chapter(on the Shot Heard Round the World game) was just gorgeous, a perfect encapsulation of time and place and tension and history and what baseball can mean and encompass in the realm of Americana, but without the usual hagiography and pathos that such treatments tend to fall into.

Since then though, it has sorta dragged a bit, and DeLillo is back to his usual (effective but kind of tiring) hammering away at themes of death and dread and waste and America and all that. Relevent, but I’ve heard it before. I’ll keep reading to see if it picks back up to the level of the first chapter again, but I’m getting doubtful.