About halfway through Fathers and Sons, and I'm actually really enjoying it, compared to other fiction from the era. It's not so dry as one might anticipate, and so far no one is coming out of this text unscathed, even the purported nihilist friend. The nihilist, or at least the one who has an infantile understanding of the concept, is actually coming out pretty roasted thus far, which is pretty enjoyable since most self-proclaimed nihilists never pass the "nihilists from the Big Lebowski" stage. It's all kind of meta (again, like Lebowski) in that none of the text, none of the interactions, nothing about the text has any meaning, really, to derive from it so far, while simultaneously roasting the melodramatic twenty-something who virulently hates everything for no reason and seems to be faking it--the guy is portrayed kind of like Kylo Ren with sideburns.