I still remember sitting down with this book for the first time, excited and thrilled, knowing only that I was readying another book from the author of Cavalier and Clay.  Swaying back and forth over the first hundred pages, one second entranced and the next revolted, hating the main character and yet captivated by this train wreck of a man, until eventually I quit battling against the incessant pull of this book and just dove in.  Of course, this novel delves in Chabon's prodigious vocabulary, and occasionally lingers almost too long over simple moments, but these are the traits Chabon's work which either draws you deeper into the story or repels you, but for myself the luxurious language intoxicates rather than disgust.