Bests & Worsts Reviews from Amazon

I read this book in three days, found none of the sex gratuitous, never felt lost (though the narrative certainly does fly apart in the last section), and thought the book, if it needed editing, only needed about 75 pages worth, and that's spread out across 800. I seem to be in the minority, and that makes sense--this is not a book for everyone. But for me, Dhalgren is the best book I've read in months, and I desperately don't want its detractors to scare people like me off. No, fans of early Delany, this is not Babel-17, but I personally think he didn't start getting really good until Nova and his short stories. No, people of delicate sensibilities, this is not a sanitized book, but those who believe it's _just_ about the author's own bisexuality are probably betraying their own sensitivities; frankly, I found issues of race, the concept of identity, the artistic drive, philosophy, the power of myth, semiotics, metafiction, and the overwhelming theme of "What happens when time has no meaning?" to be far more prevalent than the issues of sexuality. There _is_ a lot of sex in certain sections of Dhalgren, but it usually serves as a signpost in a relationship, showing just how two or more people stand at that particular moment. Dhalgren is also not "about nothing," nor is it "disjointed"--there is very clearly a storyline going on, though its initial stated goals lose meaning as certain themes start to take over the universe of the book. It's no A-to-B plot, but it's one seriously good A-through-B-and-around-back-to-A (or IS it?) plot. So what IS Dhalgren? To me, it's a book with all of the best thematic concerns of Thomas Pynchon's Gravity's Rainbow combined with a few very awesome riffs on Joyce, universalized by the sheer mythic BIGNESS of this very, very weird place in which it all occurs. Fans of the Big Dense Postmodern Novel and SF's '60s New Wave might fall madly in love with this, as might anyone who likes both Haruki Murakami and Hunter Thompson. I know I did. Plenty of people have tried to summarize this thing, but this is what you need to know: Dhalgren is an eerie, sexy, alternately thrilling and draining, mythic picaresque of a book in which one very confused guy enters the weirdest place on earth and ends up at the center of everything through no fault of his own. The desperate search for knowledge comes up with tantalizing clues and some emotionally walloping encounters and relationships with other people, but the Kid's mind is his own worst enemy, and the nearly self-aware city seems not too far behind. By the end, the Kid might not even care, but that doesn't free him from the troubles not knowing causes. Plenty of possible answers pop up, but this mystery's solution seems overdetermined: there are dozens of ways to explain what's going on, but each one has just as much tantalizing evidence as the others, and none fit the whole story perfectly. This is a book where you're going to want to flip back a lot to find out what the Kid is having frustrating bits of deja vu over, and like Finnegans Wake, you're also going to want to read the first couple of chapters over again as soon as you get to the broken sentence that ends and begins the book, because just like in Joyce's most frustrating creation, the end enriches the beginning INFINITELY. I'm already itching to reread this thing, because I have the feeling that the entire novel glows with interconnections the second time through. Till then, though, I beg anyone excited rather than scared off by this review to purchase this immediately. The risk of disliking Dhalgren greatly is far outweighed by the rewards the right kind of reader gets out of this book. This one's now a part of my mental constellation, and I hope it can play the same part in yours.