The Fortress of Solitude by Jonathan Lethem
A problem I face with books I don't like is justifying their flaws as "stylistic." The pacing felt weird, but isn't that because Dylan admitted his childhood consumed everything that came after? It was derivative of Kavalier and Clay's Brooklyn comic book utopia and Toni Morrison's blend of metaphor and fantasy, but that's unfair to the book. Nothing is original.
I think at a certain point, I have to admit that it didn't work for me, but I still appreciate what it's trying to do. My actual criticism is how clunky a lot of the sentences are. I caught upwards of a dozen typos and grammatical errors, and that's just sloppy. The alternating sidesteps and acknowledgements of racism and stereotypes seemed odd until I realized how much of the book is autobiographical. That doesn't fix all of the book's issues, but it explains some of the strange stances it takes and the weirdness he acquired (or had to already have) during his time at Bennington. Lethem is sharing his own childhood, so of course it's going to be biased and vague. Even if he hates where he came from, he can't stop loving it. / ★★