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leifalreadyexists 's review for:
The Possibility of an Island
by Michel Houellebecq
See, I don't know. The first plunge I took into the book was incredible, Houellebecq was absolutely on fire and the satire was almost seeping from the pages to stain my fingers with complicity. And then the sex took over, and I dragged through the large middle portion of the book (not shocked, but bored) to come upon the ending which was painfully lost in jargon and (what seemed to me) an ungainly confusion of directions and ideas. Isolation, ok. Meaninglessness, ok. Well. Perhaps it flew over my head, and I'm just too slow to keep up with Houellebecq's brilliant satire: or perhaps not. I'd gladly re-read the first portion, god yes!, but the dragging sex and isolation, well, thanks, but pass.