I pre-ordered this four years ago, but just . . . didn't . . . read it. I don't know when would have been the best time to read this, but, um, huh. I agree with those other lower rated reviews that say that the book started off decently, but then it kind of just . . . keeps happening? There are depressing parts, but told in such a way that made me numb to that? Which maybe that's the point, giving us the feeling of depression about the depression? 

The idea that nothing means anything and everything is pointless is repeated so many times in these many pages that it felt like it was sort of an out for this book and it's not needing to have any direction or point, either. I finished it because I own it and did find a few moments to enjoy/ponder in the first part of the book, but feel like I will be swiftly passing this on to my library booksale.