This was a gargantuan beast of a novel, packing the plot twists of a 5-season Netflix series into its 500 dense pages. There are pages-long, multiclaused sentences that basically demand an unbroken binge-read, and Wagner's attention to detail (of his protagonists' jobs, backgrounds, and lives) is intimidating, yet fitting to the characters and the story; it's kind of like a hopped-up Franzen without the arrogance, or a less didactic Rushdie without the need to make every protagonist a variation of the author himself.
The book is so "Inside LA" that I felt I needed a SoCal Cliffs Notes to understand some of the references, and so eerily Nostradamian in its contemporary references that I had to check multiple times what the original publication date was. This is a small font, 500+ page book published in 2006, so it's safe to say Wagner started writing it at least a few years before, yet there are references to Trump and his pecadillos/political aspirations, the movie "Sicko" (which came out in 2007!), opioid addiction (name-checking fentanyl?), the therapeutic use of psychedelics - besides the absence of smartphones, it feels more like a book written in the mid-2010s than the mid-2000s.
Also, be warned that you may need a thesaurus handy to decipher certain passages - captious, famulus, verbigeration, hebephrenic, inenarrable - the hits keep coming. I don't know if this novel was ever translated into another language, but if it was, I pity the poor translator who endeavored to render it equally impactful in a different tongue.
At its heart, though, this is a novel about a (very broken) family and a (very warped, very Californian) conception of the American Dream - and who can't take an interest in that? This book should have been a lot more popular than it was/is, yet at the same time (there aren't even that many reviews of it on Goodreads), it's quite easy to see why it isn't/wasn't - it's a challenging, prolix, sesquipedalian text (to put it in Wagnerian terms), and not everyone is up for that.