Weeelllll…. I really liked Rabbit, Run when I read it a few years ago. So I picked up this book, started reading it, stopped half way, and then skimmed the rest.

Why? Because the middle section got soooo tedious that it was making me angry. This may be a spoiler of some sort, but reading about Rabbit and company sitting around EVERYNIGHT, smoking weed and listening to Skeeter talk about how the white man is bringing the black man down is not my cup of tea. And what’s with the huge sections of book excerpts that they’re reading aloud?

I just decided I didn’t care what happens to Rabbit at this stage in his life. I may end up reading the last two books because they both received the Booker Prize, I believe, so they’ve got to be better than this one.

And, oh yeah – I don’t CARE about the many times he can’t seem to keep an erection. Way too much focus on this crap. Reminds me of Philip Roth or J.M. Coetzee. Maybe I just don’t identify with horny middle aged men.

Sorry this is so vehement.