I think I imagined the main character "walking slowly" and intaking his visual surroundings for a majority of the book.

I know I'm supposed to love this book, but I found little interest in the character. It is probably just me; I have little interest in woe-is-me characters that don't actually reflect on the inner meanings they live. I don't like shifting through detailed accounts of the character running out of cigarettes instead of focusing on the psychological changes occuring. I know I'm supposed to infer the changes, but I honestly find it boring to keep doing that for each step without a specific purpose. I prefer writing that uses this strategy more selectively.

It was just too Catcher in the Rye for me. I don't really like that book either. I think my angsty teenage self might have liked it, but now I just want the characters to get over themselves.

I understand why it won awards and all, but I just didn't connect. Maybe I'm just too big a fan of people turning into cockroaches.