I'm totally fine with post-modernism and challenging narratives, but I felt like this book was self-indulgent and gimmicky. The writer has a flair for imagery but the characters lacked their own voices. I felt like there was only enough content for an intriguing short story, not a full-length novel (how many times did I need to read about Rita Hayworth and the lettuce pickers to get the point?) I also didn't sympathize with the suffering of Sal/Saturn/Frederico/etc at the hands of women. It just came off as repetitive and at times misogynistic.