Insomuch as it completes what it sets out to do--namely, detail H.P. Lovecraft's two-year stint living in New York with his wife Sonia Greene (at first together, then as a bachelor while she worked elsewhere), then one cannot fault the book. It is a thorough survey of his time there with plenty of referenced resources to prop up the narrative with biographical fact. So, full four stars for that.
Unfortunately, the man himself comes across as an elitist, racist, entitled and hypocritical prig. Of course, we already know this, but it's especially sad considering the fact that this writer was immersed in a great cosmopolis for two years, extensively walking its streets and palling around with an intellectually/culturally diverse crowd, and he refused to let any of that shift his deep-seated, nasty prejudices.
It is a wonder that anyone took a liking to him--most of all his own wife, a Jewish woman herself who seemed to escape the man's virulent anti-Semitism--but hey. He, at least, showed himself to be a charismatic and amiable person with the people he deemed worthy of his affection. Life is full of contradictions, I guess.