This is a good
book, I think, (it's certainly beautiful writing), but not one that really captured me. I think perhaps I would have enjoyed it more when I was younger and had more tolerance for angst.
I guess if I had to pick one word to describe it, it would be "claustrophobic." It's told first-person, and not just first-person but styled as a letter that the narrator is writing to someone whom he hates. So the focus is very narrow, and the opportunities for unreliable narration legion. And yet . . . I think the narration is, more or less, intended to be taken at face value. After all, one of the main character's distinguishing traits is that he never lies. Or so he tells us.
I don't know. I wanted other perspectives, I guess, more opportunities to tease out what's true and not true, perception and assumption. I wanted a different book.