Reading Don DeLillo, I couldn't keep from imagining the author sitting sequestered in his home tapping out his aren't-I-so-clever story without ever really going out into the world to find out how people act, talk, feel, or think.
His sometimes interesting style is forced upon us rapid-fire at the sacrifice of real characters that, through their interactions with one another, actually make something interesting happen. This book reads that way: way over-rated and tiresomely 'clever' after about one hundred pages. You will feel nothing for any of the characters because you will recognize that they are just sloppy cartoon sketches of contemptible middle-class American nitwits. Of course, we are supposed to identify with them--wink, wink-- because they are meant to mirror our silly and meaningless lives. (Are you tired, yet, of that angle?)
In real life, (American) people may act silly at times, but to suggest that they are all distracted fools who don't ever pause in their stupid routines to contemplate how sad and pathetic their lives really are is truly an arrogantly sophomoric theme to carry throughout the length of a novel.
Honest-to-goodness laughs?: Two.
New insights into life and human behavior: None
A re-tread of that other over-rated 'clever' stinker "Crying of Lot 49?": Yes