Now, I have read it through in the first order, Chapters 1 through 56, and found that there was still a third of the book yet to be read.
It's not a slender book, at some 600 pages, and it's not an easy read, for the most part. This is a good thing, the language and references are dense and there's a great many things I should be looking up. Words like Maldorors, Pataphysics, Melmoths, Octave Mirbeau's "The Torture Garden", there are innumerable, overwhelming cultural references of which I recognize only a few. When last I read books set in Paris, Hemmingway, Maughm and others, there was no internet, you knew the reference or you didn't and if you were lucky you got a footnote that explained it.
Now, now I have the internet, and I'm - not forever, but often enough, setting it down to go down some rabbit-hole suggested by the author. Not all pan out, but enough, enough.
A Sampling, googling the protagonist's encounter with Berthe Trepat - who turns out to be a fictional pianist, looking up on YouTube to find that in fact there's been music composed in her honor - in this twist of modernity, had a footnote been around some 30 years ago when last I did this sort of reading she would merely have been a fictional character, now, in the age of the internet, fiction becomes reality...
Her description, on page 106: "There was something moving about that face of a burlap-stuffed doll, of a plush turtle, of an immense nitwit stuck in a rancid world of chipped teapots..."
Now, I have finished it in the first order, now to read it again in the order prescribed by the author which will fill in for all the missing chapters and pages.
In the beginning, a little annoyed, "too soon", but the prose has a lyrical quality, a poetry, intensity, that reading it again I'm finding new ways to understand it.
An excellent book.