This must have been the most eccentric book, that I ever laid eyes on. It is probably the most meta a metafiction book can get, even so, that Sorrentino went length to keep up the world he imagined - lyrically even going so far, that when telling the story about a bad writer, that chapters that are enclosed are actually badly written. It on one hand is an accolade to stick to the fiction, yet it boils down to the book being a very strenuous read for the more casual reader.

To sum it up: the writing style, the width and plethora of lyrical imaginations is amazing, the multiple meta-layers and the fun he has with it, is impressive, but the novel sometimes loses its steam in the middle part of the book and sometimes feels like Sorrentino was showing off whilst losing track of his protagonists.