This is the quintessential book about the wild life in LA in the 80’s. Set in the savage vacuousness of this decadent era, it’s a snapshot of a time I remember very well, but don’t necessarily want to relive... this novel is all the time travel I need.
One, no thousand stories in many parallel narratives, which have one thing in common: they are set in Los Angeles and trace the city's history in fiction and partly historical explanations. And maybe also my recommendation because I miss the pretentiously pink, sugar-coloured skies over Los Angeles in the morning and late afternoon.
Here is the best example of the ecological end. We are killing ourselves. The earth is full. Humanity needs to account for its vast imposition on the land. Tim is well versed in eschatology - specifically by the destruction of the climate. It reminds me of all the vestigial bad parts of Los Angeles.