I just couldn't get into it.

It's not that I didn't understand the situational humor or anything; I got it, and I thought it was funny, but it just wasn't enough. I just can't deal with such pretentious, whiny, egotistical main characters. It's a weakness on my part as a reader more than it is a reflection on Toole's writing ability. The man was a good writer, and objectively I could see it in his writing. But as a subjective reader of fiction, I would get tired even thinking about having to force my way through the putrid cesspool of self-importance that radiates from our "protagonist" (?) Ignatius J Reilly.

I guess this is going to be one of those books that I will have to accept my opinion as being different from the norm. If people ask, I'll likely just sigh and tell them that I gave it two damn good tries before putting it down for good. I read more than half, and I hate leaving a story down before I finish it. But I just can't deal with the archetype of Ignatius; it just grates on me. Suddenly things that I recognize should be funny become less funny and more annoying, simply because I hate his dumb fat face and his pompous, self-righteous shitty attitude. I seriously cannot say enough bad things about this character; I cannot stand him! And I know that is the precise point of the novel - I know - but just because I understand the purpose doesn't mean that I am magically able to excuse the character of all his gross existence.

Like I said, it's a personal preference more than anything. Maybe I'll try it again in a few more years.