Schteyngart’s great. Has a semi claim to fame for instructing James Franco in a creative writing course (MFA level?)
Halfway through and this is some dystopian shit. I typically stay away from dystopian literature, but if it’s super or sad, I’m down. It’s the latter so far. A ton of genres in here and Schteyngart writes convincingly well through them. The writing’s soulful, the humor is laudable, and the depictions of old, smelly books is poignant.