All the typical hallmarks of a Robbins adventure are on display here. This is the story of a young Jewish boy who is corrupted by the sleazy underbelly that supports a world of glamour. He grows up to be a man of the world, overcomes adversity, and then things are pretty cool for him, the end.
It's interesting to read these after reading so much Stephen King. They populated the bestseller lists at around the same time in the 70s and 80s and both of them seem to have preferred writing by the seats of their pants to writing from an outline. While I've criticized King plenty of times for his tendency to write himself into a corner and then rely on vaguely unsatisfying means to get himself back out, that method is vastly preferable to Robbins strategy of never actually writing a story in the first place. This is a collection of scenes more than it is a novel, and if you've read any Robbins in the past, you know exactly the kinds of scenes that he has in his repertoire.
You do have to appreciate Robbins's ability to come up with the silliest premises imaginable from time to time. In this book we're treated to an old-money family of gay men. Like, they're all gay. For generations. Somehow. It's not important to the plot (of course), but where else are you going to get an author writing this kind of thing with a straight face.