I read the entirety of this one to and from North Carolina, while on multiple airplanes and the time between transfers, and in a sense I'm glad I read it in one sweep. You almost have to, in order to keep track of what's going on, if you understand what's going on at all. 
 It beings beautifully enough, with two conflicting poets, one who finds beauty in chaos and the other in strict order. They form an odd sort of companionship, which spirals into a secret anarchist society and an eventual plot to plant a bomb in Paris. 
 It's the introduction that says this best--there are no characters in this book. Yes, there are people who help the plot along, and there's Syme, which is the closest we get to a main character. But they're all a caricature, or a theme of a bigger metaphor. And you think you're following it all, until you get to the very end and things are unraveling at a speed that makes about as much sense as the nonsensical "plot" you've read thus far. 
 Ask me what happens at the end. I have no clue. There's a God figure, and there's something about God being in everything, but it's not any Christianity that I know. These people have been running around like mad trying to stop the anarchists, and it fizzles down to this quasi-spiritual drivel that they all just accept. Believe, maybe not. But accept, to a point. 
 It's entertaining. Its plot twists are pleasantly predictable. And it was enjoyable enough to entertain me on ten hours worth of travel, but I'll be damned if I can understand half of it's supposedly deeper themes.