Life, the Universe, and Everything

I didn't finish the book. Like everyone else, I was charmed by the author's wit and writing style in the beginning, but by the time the narrator got to New York, I was bored and somewhat irritated. I didn't find the character and his existential crisis compelling enough to keep reading.

It was hard for me to sympathize with the main character and what I read as his refusal to grow up and get on with life regardless of its uncertainties. This statement makes it sound as though I take a much more pragmatic approach to life than I actually do. It's just that I have little patience for people (including fictional characters) who are completely paralyzed by abstract, unresolvable matters. I felt about this character much the same way I feel about the New Age navel-gazers here in Boulder: meditate all you like, but please realize that it's your relative comfort and privilege that enables you to spend so much time dwelling on these things.

That sounds harsher than I intended. I get that life, the universe, and everything can be scary. But if you spend all of your time worrying about it, the really meaningful part - life - will pass you by.