RaveLos Angeles Review of BooksDread is the predominant phenomenological mood in DeLillo’s work, and it directs his language, the hard, flinty poetry of a writer who seems to surmount despair only by his trembling, always self-doubting sense that within language there are mysteries that promise revelation, perhaps a shred of redemption ... The Silence evokes all this and more ... What is fascinating about how DeLillo deals with this high-concept idea is that he intentionally bleeds it of dramatic excitement ... All the advanced buzzwords of our technocapitalist era. Lest you think DeLillo, by tossing out these terms, is just throwing everything he can think of into a noisy vat of apocalyptic paranoia, understand that he uses the terms the way most of us hear them in real life: as signifiers for things we know are important, potent, and frightening, but which are surrounded by a mystery so deep that they make us feel baffled and helpless ... a sadness and pessimism about the American and planetary future that is without precedent in his work. But it is a beautiful book in the way tragedies can be beautiful: testaments to the strength of those who can face the dread with an inspiring honesty and integrity—which is another thing great writers teach us.
PanThe Los Angeles Review of BooksThe money and publishing world sections of Bright, Precious Days are compelling and well done — the best part of the novel. Not so much the other parts ... One problem is that McInerney doesn’t know how to write about people who aren’t part of Manhattan’s white elite ... McInerney’s work registers as mild comedy and feeble romance.