“Surreal, scurrilous, solipsistic, sarcastic, and sardonic, Self’s newest bit of unclassifiable literature continues his career-long carpet-bombing of contemporary culture’s most heinous aspects, sparing no one, including the author himself.” A review of Walking to Hollywood at Salon.
And from a review at Boston.com: “From mad, marvelous, swirling bits of narrative disorder, Self fashions his scathing satiric denunciations of the eroded artistic, cultural, and moral values of a solipsistic media-driven world … While Self’s ultimate vision is grim, it is described in dazzling bursts of verbal pyrotechnics … The language here is as rich as Vladimir Nabokov’s, the rage as deep as Jonathan Swift’s, the narrative as convoluted as Nathanael West’s.”
