But I didn't.
I didn't feel anything but irritated with Jim Knipfel. The dude just seems like... a jerk. A whiny jerk! And the book is about how he went slowly blind.
He attempted to kill himself numerous times, went slowly blind, and I STILL couldn't make myself care about the guy.
There's nothing particularly wrong with the prose in Slackjaw. It's clean and accessible. It's also boring. Reading it is sort of like listening to the ramblings of a fuck-up friend who's always complaining and who you don't like very much, but who you feel obligated to keep seeing. In other words, it's a drag.
Anyway. If you see this book around and you're lured by the fun substitle and the rather impressive blurb by Thomas Pynchon, don't be fooled. Slackjaw is a stinker.