The Last Samurai is one of those books I try to get through multiple times. Each interval is long enough so that I forget why I stopped reading it. I am reminded again. It is pretentious and arrogant. It is an orgy of intellectualism. Excessive intertextuality, allusions, worship of ancient texts and obscure texts, and showing off how many million languages one knows is not interesting after the first 100 pages. After a while, Ludo becomes unbelievable and Sybilla becomes so irritating I want to rip the page. Obviously, my irritation is due partially to my own failure of not having watched, listened to, or read all the things mentioned and blubbered over. However, I love the innovative style of writing. DeWitt is a brilliant writer. Maybe too brilliant for me.