Tumults of emotion, as youth often is. Beauty and admiration become frustration and disavowment. Hatred and judgement become revelation and forgiveness. The dreary march known by your 30’s from youthful solipsism to the strange absolution of having quite accidentally mined a philosophy from the barren veins of raw material known as suburbia. A dynamic read, lifting up and off the page effortlessly. Ken is a fascinating anti-antihero, wonderfully paced and endlessly engaging—redemptive and cynical all at once. Reads like a sober Burroughs, or a prose punk rocker now selling out stadiums for $300 a seat.
This book is... interesting. Ken has this way of existing that’s so exuberant (and honestly, ridiculous) that I found myself laughing a lot (once you kind of detach and let him be himself) and really liking him and some of his points of view. He’s someone who’s vibrantly alive but underneath the narcissism (there is a lot of narcissism), there’s a kind of absurdist note running through him that makes it bearable and is more sensitive then he’s willing to let on