This is the seventh Don DeLillo book I've read. Something I always find about this writer is that he’s reliably funny, has wonderful dialogue, and some weird ideas to not quite offer, but hint at, somewhere between ethereal and cold neo-realism.

Eric Packer is a privileged billionaire who drives around the streets of New York, in his armour plated Limo. Riots pour out onto the streets. The Dollar is being replaced with the Rat. His cold and detached observations on society make him the stereotypical, narcissistic member of the elite. Unlike some protagonists of this nature in fiction, he’s not too unbearable. He’s almost self-aware. Packer converses with other yuppies, whilst the world outside burns. His prostrate is asymmetrical. 

I’ve seen the adaptation of Cosmopolis and I think I’m one of the only people who enjoyed it. Cronenberg is a great director and clearly understood the source material.

The novel also seems to be regarded as one of his minor efforts. However, like his latest book, The Silence, I really enjoyed it. I know a lot of people have a hard time taking him seriously. His examination on modern life, technology, and sexuality is written in a cryptic, and undeniably pretentious manner. However, it doesn’t bother me in the slightest. I’m interested in DeLillo’s obsessions and how he translates them on page.  

“There are dead stars that still shine because their light is trapped in time. Where do I stand in this light, which does not strictly exist?”