Flimsy Little Plastic Miracles

I listened to this as an audiobook and at least once per disc I yelled “EWWWW GROSSSSS” aloud in my car. Which, based on the book's summary, I was not expecting to do. Ew. Gross.

I can't quite tell if this is satire or not? It's not super funny, but it feels like it might be kind of a satire of like Dave Eggers/Jonathan Franzen/DFW-style self-consious meta-fiction?? Like the narrator is a fictionalized version of the author, who reads like Hemingway fanfiction or something–always drinking and getting into cool bro fights, incredibly appealing to the ladies (except of course for the one lady he loves and can't have, whose attainability makes her still more appealing), and whose novel becomes insanely popular after the author/narrator fakes his own death.

Oh also there is tons of fairly graphically depicted, violent (apparently nearly every time this guy bones his emotionally distant lover, the sheets are spattered with blood) sex?

GROSS, what??

Also there's a running thread in there of commentary about technology and the Singularity?

Seriously is this satire or not. Is it an exercise in how extremely unlikeable you can make your narrator? Blurgh.

Also the audiobook narrator sounded like a total d-bag, which I guess was appropriate.