The Interestings… are not so interesting, at least not for the first 200 pages of the book, during which they obsessively think about themselves, the apparently wonderful coincidence of their friendship, kindled in a magical summer camp while in their teens, and their astonishment at how much things have changed since then (duh!). The story gets much more interesting as they age — perhaps because I’m too old to relate to young’uns — but only sporadically, with each intensely well observed family life incident drowned in more dreary self-absorbed trivia. The story is also afflicted with a surfeit of well-researched, well-described, but rather tedious clichés: the mom’s drug-sharing boyfriend in the 70s, the tortured gay man in the 80s, the uber-successful artist, and the vicissitudes of NYC real estate. So why two stars? Because the shining moments are superb, including the family woes described above and, especially, the travails of the dad of the Asperger’s kid who simply, with shame, does not love his son.