Windows on the World Book

I couldn't decide on what star rating to give this. This is, at once, the most horribly self-indulgent book I've ever read, and one of the most insightful looks into today that I've ever seen.

The author is an asshole, who blends himself with the fictional character constantly. But I've been reading a ton of French philosophy and perspectives on America recently. He's drawing a lot of it from that.

This book is an attempt at the hyperreal novel. Where fiction becomes more real than reality. What can you say about that? I don't like the main character, or, honestly, any of the characters. But the philosophy, the philosophy is real. Beigbeder understands generation and thought and the reality of horror. He deconstructs symbolism when the world is making nothing but symbols. He sees the meaning in meaning nothing.

So I feel that it is worth reading. I would recommend it to anyone, especially those well read in French accounts of America -- Toqueville, Baudrillard, etc. It's a quick read, anyway. But how do I feel about it? I'm not sure. I think that I need to think about it.

In short: swallow his egotism. It is worth it by the time you reach 10:28.