Paul is a literal shapeshifter layering stereotypes and identities over himself like papier-mâché. Knowing that, I shouldn’t be surprised that the results are hollow.

There are some appalling sentences in here that are often funny and sometimes sexy. But it takes far too long for the plot to decide where it’s going (if anywhere) and backloads any sort of character development. For me, the book is brilliant when it leans into its smuttiness. I could take or leave the fairy tale interludes and wistful retelling of nineties subcultures. If the point is to sit with the rudderless arrogance of this young person struggling to find himself, don’t dress it up with high-minded BS and unearned self awareness.