>it's an experimental mammoth about disillusioned, prone-to-pithy-sayings 20 somethings in modern suburbia the back cover describes as "darkly comedic" or some shit like "so funny you forget to cry" episode
>it's a young gentleman having sex and doing drugs but sometimes he has philosophical thoughts that must certainly make up for the tedium of hearing another description of a young woman's body told with pseudo-poetic prose as well as scenes that describe the dreamy feeling of heroin for the eight thousandth time episode
>it's a novel supposed to be critiquing our disillusioned po-mo zeitgeist but instead becomes itself an example of the inept culture of our era
The majority of IJ did not take place in the suburbs or feature 20 somethings.
Most of his short stories fail to check one or any of those boxes.
Broom is a stretch, and I know nothing about Pale King.