Don DeLillo is one of my favorite novelists, so I came to his first novel eager to see how his talents manifested while he was still a greenhorn. He really did come right out the chute writing the sorts of ornate and philosophical sentences and paragraphs that would make any wordsmith envious. He’s apparently always been a master of mood. But this book still has its shortcomings. Plot is never in the foreground for him as a novelist but there’s barely one to be found here at all; his characters are always more thematic vehicles than true slice of life portrayals but they’re nearly completely devoid of any recognizable humanity here. Still a worthwhile read if you’re a completist, but I’d recommend every other book of his I’ve read before this one to someone coming in contact with him for the first time.