Point Omega is my 7th DeLillo, and by now I pretty much know what to expect. Especially as a late DeLillo, the novel weaves through metaphysical non sequiturs and a bare bones plot about abnormally witty and quirky characters. The bones are the barest in this novel — for starters, it’s about 115 pages. 30 of them bookend the story with a separate plot that’s related but not, a sort of thematic enrichment technique. Of the remaining 80 or so pages, about 60 of them are plotless and nearly eventless. If reading about the mundane appeals to you, as it unashamedly does for me, you should explore DeLillo. Point Omega is very well-written. There are the aesthetically flawless sentences that DeLillo is known for and a steady, confidently airy and melancholy prose. There’s also a thought provoking thread nestled into the narrative about “Point Omega,” this final stage of existence where the living reverts back to non-living (as I understood/remember it). I wouldn’t start here though, or even bother much with Point Omega, unless you need a quick DeLillo injection straight into your veins (who could blame you?)