This book is so weird. I change my opinion every two paragraphs. At the beginning of a chapter, I think the book is boring, infantile, misogynous, mushy, condescending and pretentious, a vulgar simplification; at the end of the same chapter I think that it is really intelligent, complex, deep, beautiful and revealing. On the one hand, I think that it is written with such an attention to the selection of words that it makes it cold and empty, and at the same time I think that words, sentences and paragraphs have been thrown into the page with no interest at all. There is only one thing I know for sure: I won’t know whether I like it or not until I finish it, and maybe not even then. I have just read that “our hero” is being betrayed by his wife and I love that.