"I am the false character who follows the name around"

Enter, Me.

Don DeLillo can-write-himself-out-of-a-paper-bag-but-doesn't-always-choose-to-do-so. (Though, in contrast with the aphorism, it is actually quite difficult to write oneself out of a paper bag (complicated to defeat topology with a pen, perhaps by pressing very hard (writing close))) So perhaps frankly impressive that an author who has essentially no "ideas (about architecture careers)," has almost managed to get out. Initially almost very funny (while on the campus) and subsequently very stupid (when off the campus). (There are many who are like this.)

Already in Adorno we are occasionally commenting on a "Hitler Studies" in its so-called "coma-dépasse." (The post-war fervor for Hitler biography will never have an equal. (Not even Hannah Arendt's excellent Eichmann in Jerusalem is about a person, despite a persistent misquoting on the so-called "banality of evil.")) Though, as evident in Adorno's reactionary invective against vegetarianism ('what about the people?'), we perceive that the spectre of "Hitler Studies" is not yet brain-dead (perhaps this is the "spectre haunting [academia]"). Not as much can be said for "DeLillo Studies," whose swipes at philosophy don't quite rise to the level of brainstem reflexes. Who comprises the audience that that can still be enriched by notions of "the most photographed barn in America" and "is it really raining?" ( )

A very good book. The 1980s were half over when DeLillo released this book, and yet he somehow distilled both the past and the future into the present.

In much the same way, On The Road captured the emerging youth culture and its unfettered access to the super-powered United States, White Noise captures the transformation of a country into rampant consumerism and academic navel-gazing.

Although the middle section of the novel focuses on the paranoia surrounding AIDS, it also presciently parodies our obsession with data and analytics. Much as data, statistics, and analytics drive much of our present lives it was seen as the all-seeing eye in DeLillo's universe. Poked and prodded by medical devices, Jack Gladney's doctors extract countless data from his body and are left with no better answer than humans have been cursed with knowing since the emergence of intelligence. We're all gonna die...eventually. ( )

In the beginning I thought the story had material to develop into a critique of consumerism - and somehow I maintained that hope for a long time before I realized the story was focussing only on the individuals and their problems. Unfortunately neither the way the story was told nor the characters were fascinating and I found the book utterly dull and forgettable. In the end I was thinking what a boring movie this must make and how come someone ever came up with the idea of making one out of this. ( )

This book has layers. Reminds me of The Stranger at times. Very entertaining dialogue. ( )

Chippy writing style ( )