Disclaimer: Hari is a friend.

This doesn't have the exceptional formal control that My Revolutions did, but it is a terrific novel. Inhuman and human simultaneously, trapped in a history that it also denies.
One of its aims, I think, is to leave us like Benjamin's "Angel of History"
Where we perceive a chain of events, he sees one single catastrophe which keeps piling wreckage upon wreckage and hurls it in front of his feet. The angel would like to stay, awaken the dead, and make whole what has been smashed. But a storm is blowing from Paradise; it has got caught in his wings with such violence that the angel can no longer close them. The storm irresistibly propels him into the future to which his back is turned, while the pile of debris before him grows skyward. This storm is what we call progress.
The overall effect is terrifically achieved. The 1920s manhunt is truly magnificent, and so are many of the other individual sections, though some necessarily a little less so than others.