I have a love-hate relationship with this book. I love the idea of it, but hate the execution. I guess that means I should hate it. I'm giving it three stars anyway.

Brave of Walter Kirn to telegraph, through the narrator, that the book has no plot. He says this as he's leaning over to comment on a seatmate's choice of reading material on one of his many flights.

I like bleak, black comedies, though I'm not sure this qualifies as a comedy. More of a stream of unconsciousness musing from a lost, self-loathing man with no place in the world who casually wounds others and himself. To say he is the byproduct of corporate greed and inhumanity is going a bit far... he chose his path and only wants the frequent flier miles because it is the only brass ring available to him in a life that holds no joy. So far so good.

But the narrative goes off the rails. It is basically one week in his life, chasing him around the country as his mental state dissolves. By the time we reach Las Vegas, nothing is believable (we had to suspend a good deal of disbelief from the beginning).

Like others I saw the movie adaptation; watched it after I read the book. I was curious to see how an unfilmable book with a somewhat loathsome character could turn out for the big screen. Of course the character redeemed himself with the wedding in the film, and realized in the nick of time, that life is worth living and that he needs to connect with others. Lost most of the books acid. The book was better. That's not to say the book was good.

If you've ever spent any time on flights, on a company expense account, you might nod in recognition at some of the observations here. He skewers the usual subjects, corporate soullessness for one. In the end though it left me feeling a little bit dirty.