Do not go into Technicolor Ultra Mall expecting a pleasure read. Oh, sure, you're going to be hooked and will be entertained and all those things you want from a good book, but some part of you is going to come away feeling battered and bloodstained. The Kill Bill movie comes to mind, minus the artsy filming techniques.
For those readers who are a wee bit squeamish, then be warned that this book will provide fodder for a few nasty dreams. There are no punches pulled. In fact, it goes straight for the crotch kick, in most instances. Even when physical violence isn't involved, the way people interact, the way over-the-top advertising is shoved into your face (hey, it's a mall, isn't it?), the way the entire culture has become cut-throat on all levels...it's all peering into the darker corners of our minds and squirming a bit because we don't like what we see there
The class slang, the various technologies, the insane advertising methods woven through the chapters--are all fascinating elements that bring in the "color" that the title touts. There are a few misfires, though, such as subplots that never really go anywhere, or characters introduced without any real end purpose besides a walk-on bit. These things are easily overlooked though, with the help of fast pacing and the niggling question as to whether the author did this on purpose. I mean, it is a mall, right? Maybe he was trying to induce the sort of hyper-attention defecit many of us experience when walking through one.
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