Just like in 'The Hours', Cunningham's writing feels a bit contrived and affected.
It is poetic and well-wrought yet perhaps over-burdened.
By reason, these convoluted phrasings ought to feel insufferably pretentious (as I thought they did in 'The Hours', though admittedly, the inevitable comparison to Virginia Woolf's masterpiece certainly did his book no good.)
Yet, somehow, here, it actually works! That might be down to the storyline, following two middle-aged New York brothers during a decade in their lives. Though that may not sound particularly enthralling, I am still recommending this. I enjoyed it.