I arrived very late to comment on such an old novel, but much to admit, this book lying around in my library for years and I have not found until now, the desire to immerse myself. The character of Houellbecq does not attract me and chronicled his Goncourt announced highly displeased me. And then ... I plunge and surprise, I liked. Of course, the theme -central here- depression is often treated in literature (and probably more often in French cinema or song-or even disgust that red wire with Souchon, for example). But the strength of this novel lies in its miraculous balance between somewhat artificial passages and moments of pure talent. The last paragraph for example is simply stunning: "I feel my skin like a border." If references to seek Bret Easton Ellis have less side hung me, however, I was surprised to think as hard to "The Stranger" by Camus, without finding the ridiculous parallel. When Meursault lost his mother, Houellbecq witnessing the death of a New Galleries clients. This shift is what feeds the "Extension ...". But the style still has Houellbecq staff. It is the novel of despair, abandonment of the fight and the fall to economic impoverishment, social and sexual, but the humor is also present (only Rouennais there will be insensitive!). Follow Houellbecq is testing his attraction to the void, it is appropriate for a moment, the idea that our world is -aussi- absurd and sometimes resembles the stroke of lab rat. That has not been crossed by this idea one day?
I would have loved to speak ill of this novel. This is wasted, it is successful.