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Here's the moment where I hit the wall, "When Patty considered this question, all she could see was the great emptiness of her life, the emptiness of her nest, the pointlessness of her existence now that her kids had flown" (p.164)

Fictionalized despair doesn't mean a thing to me. There's nothing entertaining in it, since I don't get off on the problems of others. It's very difficult to learn anything from it - I have read so many different versions of how awful a seemingly respectable American life can be (thanks The New Yorker, thanks McSweeney's) that I just drift off as I do when I'm listening to a new song by a band I never liked. One can make the argument that it's just a device to make larger points about society, human nature, or in this case, "freedom", but the themes I see here would be completely forgotten if they weren't "subtly interwoven" into a story that just isn't that surprising (driving a Volvo and gentrifying a neighborhood doesn't guaranty goodness or happiness - no shit).

Think of it this way - you have two neighbors. One's life is a labyrinth of regrets, mistakes, romantic problems, and dubious lunges towards redemption. The other neighbor does things. Which one would you rather learn more about?