
I have never read a book that was acclaimed as a cult fiction. I was more or less anticipating the underground. But “the underground” is too vague a concept which I know nothing about.
To say the expected: it was a book about life. Well, a little bit of desperation here and there. And then there was the alcohol dependence, the tattoos, some 00g piercings (actually, a whole variety of piercings, a forked tongue, violence, colored hair, and sex. It’s a short book about three people in the streets of Tokyo.
It won’t hurt to read it, really — it’s a short book.