Overrated Underworld

This week I finished Don DeLillo's book "Underworld," an 825-page behemoth swathed in accolades from the biggest names in the literary universe. I know that DeLillo is a heavyweight writer, and I hadn't read any of his stuff before, so I attacked this book with energy and vigor.

It's a fine book. There are some extremely elegant stylistic flourishes, penetrating language, vivid imagery, stunning metaphors, etc. There are some obvious and intriguing themes contrasting popularly recognized America versus the underworld of the late 20th century--anti-war protestors, the scientists that make the nukes, landfill engineers, and other people that slip under the radar but make our society what it is.

Thematically and stylistically, it's a delightful book. Appreciate it for that. My problem is the lack of a cohesive plot. Underworld is basically a compendium of hundreds of vignettes, many of them moving and interesting. There's the story of the shot heard round the world in the Dodgers-Giants playoff game in 1951, which I didn't know anything about previously. There's the story of a bad kid in the Bronx that accidentally kills a neighbor and grows up and has to grapple with the consequences. There's the story of an unhappy housewife finding her independence through art. There's the story of the civil rights movement, of J. Edgar Hoover going to a ritzy NY party, of abstract art projects in the desert, of a Texas serial killer. There's the story of the 20th century and the growth of America, and you can certainly draw parallels between America and the character arcs.

But Underworld sorely lacks an overarching conflict to drive me to find out what happens next on the character level. There was no urgency to turn the page, no major character-driven conflict that drives the book as a whole. You can put down this book at any point and pick it up ten years later and you won't miss a beat--pick right up again with the pretty words and the disconnected plotlines. There's not enough that ties together--very few vignettes are ever resolved, and what is resolved doesn't much matter anyway.

Ah, but life's like that, you say. But life isn't always good read, now is it?

Besides, isn't life too short for books without a good story? Especially 825-page ones...