Of these 6 finished chapters and one unfinished chapter, quite a lot resonated with me. Karl Rossman is an impudent, proud young man, but this early American landscape he finds himself in really tosses him around. There's a constant balancing act of itching claustrophobia and optimistic exultation (about making a home out of whatever horrid situation Karl is in). In a new world like America at the turn of the century, there seems to be endless, infinite opportunities to apply oneself to. But at the same time, there's almost no satisfaction, equity, or prosperity to be seen from any labor and kindness. Wealth in this story is held tightly by those who have it, and even the most penniless, pathetic ruffian berates Karl for their oft-imagined generosity. This book is 100% a surreal fever dream, and I really wish it was complete. The final, untethered chapter about Karl making his way to Oklahoma with an ethereal theater company seemed genuinely exciting and hopeful. My last note is that there were frequent times I cackled out loud with the deadpan nature of imbecilic arguments, awkward fisticuffs, and characters shrieking in indignant aggression.